


Everything Is Awful

by theDamneddelirium (BrigadierHime)



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Eventual Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mentions of Mental Illness, Minor Violence, Past Child Abuse, References to Depression, Underage Drinking, character injury
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-08-05 07:05:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16363175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrigadierHime/pseuds/theDamneddelirium
Summary: Your mom and yourself move to Alola from Viridian City after your father's death. Never wanting to go on a journey yourself, the summer feeling air provides you with a fresh and new location to finally give it a try. Some trainers are heroes. You know because they saved your city. You're not a hero and you never wanted to be.A story about two people who learn to stop being hard-headed and open up about how hurt they are.





	1. We All Die Young

“This is it.” You look down from the imposing wall in front of you and check your bag again. Plenty of potions and an assortment of other healing items rustle around and you tick them off in your head to guarantee you hadn’t forgotten anything. It's not particularly smart to go gallivanting off into the lair of a somewhat criminal organization unprepared, no matter how easily you'd disposed of these grunts. Especially with no idea of how many more there were and the fact that you were told to come alone. There were already more grunts littering the outskirts of Po Town than you'd encountered anywhere so far. They were taken care of earlier and you had returned after healing your pokemon. “Okay, easy enough,” you tell yourself. “Go in, get yungoos, get out.” You nod and stare back up at the wall again.  
  
  
The rain beats against the overhang you're under and even though it's only five-ish, the clouds make it seem like it's easily late into the evening. This is the dimmest place you've seen since you came to Alola. As a nineteen year old in a new region, you had found that your over-prepared nature worked well for you. But then again, Alola just seemed like a much more calming and easy going place. Even so far as you'd had hardly any trouble going through the trials faced here in replacement of gyms. Back home in Kanto, you had no interest in adventuring, nothing had really attracted you to the idea. But Alola. Alola was this wonderful, beautiful, completely new place to explore and get to know. You’d never realized that so many experiences could be had in just this small of an area. And it was small in comparison to Kanto. But you had no idea that a place so dazzling would end up coming with its own problems like this.  
  
  
Team Rocket back home had been rough enough to deal with. You were younger when the majority had been disbanded but you remember the struggles that they brought and how much it stressed your parents. But these Team Skull members were just… well, exhausting. First of all, they were completely ridiculous what with their gang signs and whatever the fuck that walk is. At least in Kanto, when you heard the name Team Rocket, you felt threatened and uncomfortable. Now you just felt embarrassed. Second off, they were spooked so easily by being beaten. It was like they genuinely didn't know that they could get stronger. They'd just immediately run away once you caused them any trouble back. Even after their big talk. They were likely the least intimidating gang you'd ever heard of. And you had heard of many gangs and the brave trainers who faced them. You aren't really aiming to live up to those standards, but you will do your best. Thusly, you are prepared with a ridiculous amount of potions.  
  
  
“Time to go.” You adjust your bag on your shoulder and open the doors.  
  
  
The rain picks up almost immediately as the door closes behind you, the wind whipping your hair around. It's not a cold rain, the drops seem oddly warm. But you're not used to tropical storms either. You can understand why the town had to build walls so high before Team Skull took control. If this is a normal storm, you can't imagine what it must’ve been like in hurricane weather. Of course, you had brought an umbrella but you doubt that it's going to do you any sort of good here. You groan. You really hate rain.  
  
  
Walking forward, you realize that you really can't see very well in the overcast weather. But what you can see is an absolute mess. There’s graffiti everywhere, littering the road, the walls, you're certain it's even in the hedges lining the road. There's just a conglomeration of colors and designs and is that a wimpod? It's pretty good. You pause and stare at it a moment before continuing down the road. You think this was probably a nice town before. The houses you can see are very expensive looking. Probably more so than any you'd personally seen in your life. You're disappointed that it's in the hands of these guys.  
  
  
Stepping over some trash in the road, you wonder how they even became this. Team Rocket had grown so radically in the underground community that people still weren't sure who they could and couldn't trust. But Team Skull here was very prominent. They didn't hide and they had a literal whole town. They were obnoxious in every sense of the word. Who gave this opportunity to them? Who let this happen? Every time you’ve asked someone, all you're given is a bunch of vague details and the conversation dead ends.  
  
  
You focus in front of you as the wind picks up and see one of those barricades blocking the road. It takes a few more steps before you can make out two grunts standing behind it. Great. The grunts seem dismissive, like it doesn't even matter that you're here. “What's this numskull doing here? What, oh what, should we do?” You stop just short of the barricade and frown at the sing song tone of his voice.  
  
  
“I suggest you let me in. I was invited on business,” you look them over once. “And it wasn't with either of you.”  
  
  
The second grunt come closer to the wall, becoming defensive at your words. “What was that? Think we aren't good enough fer ya?”  
  
  
“Let's make it clear that you're the one who said it,” you shrug. The taller grunt grabs this one's arm.  
  
  
“It ain't worth it, man. It's just one chick, not a problem. You ain't comin in.”  
  
  
“Fine.” You back away with your hands held up and look around the street for a moment. “I'll find my own way in.” Crossing your arms, you leave the barricade and the grunts to wander around the road. It's getting gradually colder outside and you suppose it's starting to get dark. It may have been a good idea to wait til tomorrow. You're not sure how they can just stand out here like it's not a big deal. You begin to think heading back to the Pokémon center would be a good idea when one of the grunts runs off into the town. You can definitely take one of them on. Two doesn't bother you either but just having to face one grunt is a walk in the park. You can’t pass up this opportunity. You turn and as if by luck, there's a hole in the bushes.  
  
  
Once the other grunt faces his way down the road, you quickly run over to it, deftly ducking down and crawling underneath the unkempt branches into the lawn on the other side. There's a house that you earlier thought was gorgeous, but it's just run down. The windows are broken out and it seems to have been boarded up on the inside, there's graffiti and trash all over the yard. You can't comprehend why people would want to live like this. The house was surely in good condition when they took over, why destroy it? Not bothering to look in the house, you begin to head back towards the barricade. But you stop. The second grunt is gone as well. The road stretches on into the distance and you can make out a couple of outlines of houses and some broken down cars and an abandoned pokemon center in front of you, but no people. The rain beats down loudly against the concrete and the roofing of the nearby houses. Even if you wanted to hear for people sneaking around, it'd be impossible. You can't shake the feeling that there is something wrong.  
  
  
Trying to anticipate what to do next comes to an abrupt stop when lightning streaks the sky and a clap of thunder follows soon after. Deciding the storm is worsening, you run the distance to the decrepit pokemon center. Inside, the rain is almost deafening against the roof and the darkness seems to creep from every corner. You're reminded of your dad and you during a bad storm back home. The electricity had gone out and the two of you stayed underneath the kitchen table wrapped in blankets. You used to be terrified of storms. You miss him.  
  
  
The Pokémon center is musty and smells weird, not quite like it's molding yet but this weather has definitely taken a toll on this building. “Fuck I'm soaked,” you whisper and pull at your tank top and capris, ringing out the water into the floor. You take your snap back hat off but realize that it's hopeless and just put it back on.  
  
  
Lightning flashes through the windows and you freeze. The light flashes out again from the corner, you can still see a humanoid figure. Grasping at the pokeballs on your belt, you back up closer to the door. But the outline doesn't move. You hold Gengar’s pokeball tightly, moving slowly to the center of the room. Another streak of light reveals a Hypno staring steadily at you and standing over a body. You pause at the sight and thoughts flood your head. What the hell? Why is that here? Shit, that'll mess Hauntly up real fast. Is that person dead? What if they're dead? What kind of place is this? You're sufficiently spooked. You figured this place would be fucking stroll in the park but the more into this town you go, the more like a horror movie it seems. Light enters again, thunder shaking the building, and you read what is hopefully a look of disinterest on the Hypno’s face. It doesn't look like it has any intention of moving.  
  
  
You place your pokeballs back on your belt but keep your fingers hooked around it. Locking your eyes on the Hypno, you carefully approach the body on the floor. Whether or not this guy is in Team Skull, you have to check on him. What if he's hurt? This Hypno could be doing all sorts of shit. And if he's not part of them, that's more of a reason to help. Squatting down, you see the rise and fall of his chest and the Team Skull medallion around his neck. This idiot is just sleeping! Who sleeps in this weather? And on the floor? The Hypno is still staring at you when you look up. This place is just creepy. You're going to leave and come back in the day time.  
  
  
There's a crash outside and you nearly jump out of your skin at the sound of so many voices so suddenly. You give up with the Hypno and stand to look out the windows. Grunts are running in and out of houses and yards, coming to find you, you guess. They're quickly making their way this direction. You can't take on so many people at once. It’d be a foolish thing to do. The pokemart on the far side of the room has boxes lining the counter and you dart over to it, clearing the surface and hunker down on the floor. The space is small but so are you. You hold your legs to your chest and try to mellow your breathing. Hiding is better than getting your ass beat. The door slams open and you jolt, your shoe squeaking quietly against the floor thankfully hidden by the sound of glass breaking. You hover your hand over your Inceniroar. “This is the last building, she's gotta be in here!” Multiple footsteps enter the building and begin shuffling around the room. Your heart feels like it's going to beat out of your chest.  
  
  
“Tch, look at this idiot,” a female voice calls out. “Wake up, stupid. Whaddya think you're doin’?” There’s a thud and a groan.  
  
  
“Th’ hell was that for?”  
  
  
“Were being invaded, man. Wake the fuck up,” the first says. You take their momentary distraction to peek over the counter. The two grunts you heard are telling the tired grunt what was happening and there's another leaning over the healing counter. The Hypno is still staring at you. You slump quickly behind the bar again.  
  
  
“What is up with your Hypno?” The girl asks. You tense and hold yourself with an arm, squeezing your legs as close as possible to the counter. Footsteps grow closer to you and you ready yourself to release your Inceniroar. “Leave it to the psychic ones to be fuckin' weird.”  
  
  
“Shut up. She's not in here anyway. I'm sure I woulda heard some bitch come in.” There's some shuffling right behind the counter and you hold your breath.  
  
  
“Maybe we missed somethin’ in one of the other houses. Let's go check again,” the girl says and you hear them begin to shuffle out of the door. You release your legs and go to reposition yourself but your leg slips in the water you've dripped onto the floor. You slide and an old potion bottle hits the wall behind the counter. You can't move, you hold completely still on your hands and feet, awkwardly holding yourself up.  
  
  
Waiting a full minute after you hear the door click shut, your arm begins to cramp before you attempt to move again. Peeking behind the boxes you see that the Hypno and the grunts are gone and you exhale deeply. You climb the counter and examine the broken door, rain now entering the pokemon center. “They really can be violent huh.” Out the windows, you can see them investigating around the yards again, darting into the houses and making such a commotion that more begin coming from the end of the road. There's probably fifteen or more of them that you can see. You squint at them. “That's too many, I can't deal with that at once. Looks like I'm going to be stuck here a while.” A shiver gets the best of you and cross your arms, realizing how cold you are in the dark. “Arceus, I hate rain.” You begin to wring your shirt out again when you hear rustling and a box falls over. Your heart drops.  
  
  
“YO I FOUND HER!” You spin around and face a grunt standing on top of the healing counter. “SHE’S IN HERE BOYS!” You reach for the first pokeball you can, instinct overcoming you. The ball expands in your hand just as the doors slam open again, more glass shattering to the floor.  
  
  
“Drop the ball! Ya ain't winnin’ here, sweetheart!” someone shouts. You know you can't take them all at once. But you’ve got a few levels on them, maybe you could at least knock enough out to run. More grunts come running into the building and one of them snatches at your wrist and yanks the ball out of your hand before you can react.  
  
  
“Hey!” You yell and reach for it, but another grunt begins to wrestle your bag from your shoulders and the pokeballs off your belt. “Give those back!” The grunts have you surrounded but your fighting instinct flares up. “Give them back and I swear I’ll leave.”  
  
  
“Yea right. The hell you gonna do without them.” One of the girls smirks at you. You glance around and the fact that you're vastly outnumbered kicks in. You can't see that well in the darkness but you can tell most of the grunts are taller than you, very few your height or shorter. You're not sure you could even make it out the door. You can't take them. Anxiety starts creeping in and you won't show them you're scared. Your hands are shaking and you clench them into angry fists.  
  
  
“Look at these. These’ll catch a good price, man.” A taller grunt begins looking through your pokeballs. They're going to sell them, they're going to take them from you and then sell them.  
  
  
“Don't you touch them!” You charge towards the blue haired man, aiming to grab as many of your Pokémon as you can, but your arms are restrained by some of the others.  
  
  
“Man, shut ‘er up. That hollarin’ is getting annoying.”  
  
  
Screeching, you begin to flail your legs at the grunts, kicking at their feet and knees. “Don’t you fucking touch them!” The grunt holding you gets a hand over your mouth, muting you for only a few seconds before you bite at his fingers, slam your head back into his nose, and shove your elbow into his stomach. He releases you to hold his face.  
  
  
“You fucking bi-” You lunge forward again and manage to punch the grunt holding your pokemon, three balls flying into the air as he fumbles. The man you bit grabs your arm viciously, digging his fingers in and dragging you backwards. You hardly notice as you watch the pokeballs drop, praying that they release. It feels like you can’t breath, your chest tightening and feeling like there's cotton in your lungs, like there's no hope past this. It's the only chance they have.  
  
  
A single pokeball hits the floor face down and opens, a silence sweeping over the room when the light streaks red. Outside the lightning strikes and in the middle of the room a large pair of red eyes appear and then vanish.  
  
  
“Where’d it go?!”  
  
  
“Fuck!”  
  
  
“SHIT. SHIT.”  
  
  
“WHAT WAS THAT?”  
  
  
There's a deep, rumbling laughter that radiates from the walls and into your core. The lights begin flickering in the room, despite the fact that there seems to have been no electricity for ages. The building grows increasingly cold, the chill seeping in quick enough that you can see your breath. Out of the Pokémon you could have grabbed, Gengar was probably the luckiest you could have gotten. Skull grunts start clamouring around, trying to find some way to get at your Gengar, but the deep laughter that reverberates from the walls grow louder and louder the more panicked they get. The fluorescent lights overhead swing erratically and the windows seem to be oozing darkness. You would be terrified if this wasn't your pokemon. And you trust this Gengar more than anything.  
  
  
“Hauntly?” You speak out and a silence seizes the air, like all of the sound was sucked from the room. The lights stop creaking and the whole room seems to take a collective breath, the grunts freezing in anticipation. The one holds your arm tighter, enough to bruise and you wince. “Get ‘em.”  
  
  
A cacophony of shrieking and laughter and dissonant music fills your ears. In the darkness, you see red flashes of light signaling Pokémon being released but you can't see well enough to see if they're yours or the grunts. You think you hear growling, but it could be Hauntly making those sounds, he could be making the flashes. The grunts are screaming, both terrified and trying to get it stop. The whole space seems to be shaking like you’re in the middle of an earthquake. You can't react, you can't see him. You can't see your pokemon anywhere. You have to get out but the grunt still has your arm.  
  
  
“Get her out of here!”  
  
  
“Let her go, man! This shit ain't worth it!”  
  
  
“Fuck, FUCK!”  
  
  
The lights begin flashing on and off again and you can see eyes in the shadows of the grunts. The grunt holding your arm looks at you wide-eyed. “Make it stop! Make this shit stop!”  
  
  
“Let us go! Let us go and it’ll stop!” You scream and the grunt let's go of your arm to cover his ears to the voices. Another runs forward, shaking his head.  
  
  
“No man! She'll just come back!”  
  
  
“If we can't stand this, what are we gonna do if she's stronger!”  
  
  
“Get her!” The grunt dives at you, more encircling you and ensuring you can't get out. You begin struggling, punching wildly and trying to pull back from them but you're no match for so many people with a mob mentality. You can't resist as they grab at your arms and torso. One of their hands closes around your throat.  
  
  
“Hauntly run! Open the rest and run! Haun-!” There's a loud crack and a pain begins to spread through your head. Everything is fuzzy and you can’t focus, vertigo overcoming your senses. For a second you think you see Gengar in the ceiling, he's frowning at you. You remember more red lights and glowing eyes and lightning and then darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couple of things. If someone finds a spelling error or something, lemme know. My writing style is based mostly on my way of speaking so the sentences can be jumpy. That's whatever. 
> 
> A few notes going forward, in my head for this Moon is 19 and 5' even. Guzma is 26 and 6'4". If I think of more, I'll put them in chapters as a I go. Thanks.


	2. Playing Cinderella

When you were a child, you had no desire to travel. The farthest you’d gone was to Saffron city where your father’s work would take him sometimes. And although it was much more vibrant than your small town of Viridian, the need to go on this ‘amazing’ journey never hit. You used to watch trainers heading to the Indigo League. You'd sit at the edge of town and guide them to the Pokémon center or the Pokemart and that's what you were content doing. The first thing you always noticed was how tired the trainers looked, like this task had just consumed them. Like this desire to go fight the champion had grown so strong that they just forgot everything else. There were so few who genuinely seemed to be in good health. Why would you want to subject yourself to that? Especially when you could just travel with your parents?  
  
  
Your father’s passing was horrible and moving from the house that your family had grown in had exhausted your mother and yourself. But Alola was like a breath of fresh air. It was the perfect distraction. It was so full of color and life in comparison to the constant green city you'd left from. It was warm and peaceful and the trainers you saw didn't seem worn. Everything seemed so full of soul. These island trials seemed so much less demanding and the captains appeared to genuinely want to help people improve rather than only test their skills. You found an odd comfort that they didn't care that you were so old to start these trials either, they encouraged it. They actually wanted you, a stranger from Kanto, to be involved in their traditions. You were inspired. The islands seemed to almost call for you to travel across them. It was crazy how you had gone from never wanting to be included to wanting to be so wholeheartedly.  
  
  
At first you depended heavily on your new friends, Hau and Lillie, despite the fact they were younger than you. Lillie often seemed as lost as you were, but she offered a good person to talk to and catch your bearings with. Hau was the one who actually knew how things worked, explaining the traditions and these variations of pokemon you'd never seen before. He would take you both to all the tasty food shops and the beaches and the stores. Looking back to life in Kanto, you can't remember ever feeling a connection like this with people. You had friends, yes, but you just never felt this completed.  
  
  
But soon your friends seemed to depend on you, too. Especially when trouble came or Team Skull began showing up. They were hardly anything more than some low level ruffians who seemed to litter the islands. They were hardly comparable to watching Team Rocket develop in your own town. You distinctly remember meeting the man who was their leader once. Not so much met him, but you passed him on more than one occasion. Giovanni was the gym leader in Viridian, but you hardly ever would see him in public. Even before you knew that he was the Rocket leader, just the look in his eye was enough to scare you. Giovanni seemed nothing like the boss of Team Skull. Kukui encouraged you to fight Team Skull’s leader, egged him on even. Guzma was a large man, tall enough to be intimidating especially to a girl who'd just started training with pokemon. This guy had experience for what had probably been his whole life! You were so amazed when you beat him. That was a proud phone call to your mother.  
  
  
But you were also confused. Once Team Rocket was exposed, everyone knew almost everything. How the organization grew right under their noses. What horrible things they had done. How they had seeped their way through Kanto and bled on into Johto. But you didn't know anything about Team Skull. For a group to be so straightforward, you really didn’t know anything about them. How was it made? What was their reasoning? You had asked and received hardly any answers. Even Professor Kukui basically told you not to worry about it. Almost all of the information you'd gathered led you to believe that the whole organization was just a bunch of rejects who hadn't been able to complete their trails. And Guzma, this leader of theirs, was just some poor man who didn't get chosen as a captain and took it horribly.  
  
  
So what happened that caused such a severe backlash? Why were they so inviting to a stranger like you but would reject all these kids who were supposed to be their family? 

 

 

You come into consciousness with the sound of talking. A low buzz at first as your eyes attempt to open, but louder as you come to. Your head feels like it was swimming and there's a deep pain registering on the back of it, but the girls voices continued on. You don't remember what happened.  
  
  
“Is that my tank?”  
  
  
“So what if it is?”  
  
  
The voices don’t sound familiar. You lay silent for a moment trying to recollect the past few hours. The lights above you seem to be too bright as you open your eyes. You weren't in a building with light. Or electricity at all. You blink and turn your head towards the window. The rain is still going strong. Where is Hauntly?  
  
  
“Look, she's awake.” You turn your head to look at the girls as they both shift to look at you.  
  
  
“Better go tell the boss.” The first, a girl with braids in her hair, nods and leaves the room, the second, a dark skinned girl with tight curls, staring at you with annoyance written on her face. You just turn back towards the ceiling and ignore her. Surely your pokemon got out of here. Where would they be if they didn't? You feel exhausted. Like all of the energy and the will to fight has been drained from you. You can barely even move but you try to pick up your hand anyway and rest it on your stomach. Your shirt doesn't seem as soaked as it was and you vaguely wonder how long you've been here. There's no concept of time, just all rain and clouds and lightning.  
  
  
The grunt in the room rustles something around before flopping down on a mattress. You don't bother to look at her until you smell the distinct scent of nail polish. You glance over and the grunt is sitting on the farthest mattress away from you, one leg tucked under herself and the other off the side of the bed. The polish is black.  
  
  
“How long was I out?” You ask. Your voice is groggy and your throat feels like sandpaper. This really isn't an appropriate time to get a cold. The grunt doesn't bother to look at you when she replies.  
  
  
“‘Bout four hours.” You turn back to the window. That makes it almost ten and you wonder what Lillie and Hau are doing right now. They were going to stay with those kids until you got back. And you should've been back by now. You stare at the rain hitting the glass for what feels like hours. You’ve not heard anything about Team Skull harming people. Just pokemon. They'll probably let you go but what if your pokemon are made to stay here? You don't know if they got away or not, Hauntly might be the only one who managed to escape. Or they might've caught him again.  
  
  
“Fuck,” the grunt says abruptly. She gets up and the sharp odor of acetone fills the room. It doesn't even seem like you're worth their time. There's another full minute of silence. “Shiiiiit.” The punk girl sighs and groans. “Hey sleepin’ beauty, you paint nails?”  
  
  
“Are you kidding me?”  
  
  
“Look I know you're mopin’ or whatever, but ya could at least be useful.” You don't respond to her. “Suit yourself.”  
  
  
“Where are my Pokémon?”  
  
  
“I dunno,” the grunt responds. “I wasn't there when shit hit the fan. Ya really did a number on the fam, ya know? Some of ‘em are real fucked up. Hella rude.” You hold in a scoff, like you were the rude one here. But there might be a chance that they really did get away.  
  
  
The door clicks open and one of the blue haired grunts enters the room. “Yo, can you come out here for a sec. We got a problem.”  
  
  
“Is it cool to leave her by herself?”  
  
  
“Not like she's goin’ anywhere.” The girl groans but moves off the bed and you're suddenly very alone. You hadn't realized what an impact having pokemon had on you in terms of company. This might be the first time in months you've been completely by yourself. It almost feels hopeless. Everything has just happened too much too fast and you lost control. But you're not the type to give up like that and you won't give these bastards the satisfaction of crying.  
  
  
With the grunt gone, you take the opportunity to truly get a look of the room. Four beds are shoved in the space, two to your left and another towards your feet. There is surprisingly minimal damage to the room beyond some of the bed frames looking quite old and nothing really seems _clean_ but it's otherwise very plain. Sitting up, you scoot closer to the window and attempt to look out in the darkness. If you thought it was dark earlier, it's nothing compared to now. The storm doesn't show signs of letting up. From where you are, you can see how close you are to the city wall and also what looks to be a pool on a lower level but nothing else is visible from this angle. You assume that this is the end of the road and where the grunts were coming from. This is their base. And you're certain there's more than just fifteen of them in the building. There's really not much of a chance of running, but maybe if you can map the place out you'll get a better chance.  
  
  
Standing proves to be much harder than what you remember. You frown and grip the bed post as your vision tunnels for a second and your head swims again. Rubbing the back of your head, you feel a definite knot forming. You don't know what they hit you with but they really got you good.  
  
  
There’s talking from outside the door and then the sounds of things being thrown and dropped. But they pass and the talking turns to shouting as they continue down what you guess is a hallway. You could try to leave the room. It didn't sound like they locked it. You wonder how much space you could cover before you were caught again. Maybe if you ran fast enough, you could actually make it. Not very far with wobbly legs you think.  
  
  
About the time you actually decide to reach for the doorknob, it turns on its own and opens to reveal a new grunt and he’s soaking wet. He’s taller and wider than you and you know you can't push past him. “Were you thinking you was gonna leave?” He grins at you from behind his bandana but it quickly fades as you don't answer. Instead he glances around the room. “Where’d she go? Can't even listen to orders. Whatever. Mr. Guzma wants to see ya.”  
  
  
The door swings the rest of the way open and you're led out into the hall. You're hit with a mild sense of wonder at the sheer size of this place, never having been in a house this large. House is honestly an understatement. In front of your door is a grand staircase, carpeted and leading either down to a lower floor or over to the other side of this floor. At least it would be if not for a downed chandelier. That was probably gorgeous when it was open and working. The ceiling reaches on above you, a good few feet or more what a normal home would accommodate and what used to be a large portrait hangs in the center of the staircase, tilted almost dangerously to one side. And every bit of this amazing place has been smashed and painted and vandalized by Team Skull. It has its own sort of trashy aesthetic you guess, but you can't help but feel like it's an absolute waste.  
  
  
“Are you comin’ or what?” You realize you've been standing in the doorway for what's probably too long.  
  
  
“Do I have a choice?” You retort, getting real tired of their attitude. “Because I'll just leave if the choice is there.” The man’s eyebrows knit together.  
  
  
“Fuck you're really annoying, aren't you?” He grabs your wrist and it sends a huge piercing pain through your arm. Wincing, you yank it from his hand.  
  
  
“Don't. I'm fucking coming.” He glares at you but eventually turns and heads down the opposite hall from the stairs, heading instead towards a set of glass doors. You look at your swollen left wrist and wonder if it’s sprained or fractured, but follow him before he gets too far. You're certain this balcony was beautiful once too, but now it's been opened and the rain is coming inside. The carpet looks completely ruined and there's trash all over the outside. The grunt doesn't wait for you before he starts climbing over the banister. Assuming this is why he was wet, you don't question it and steel yourself to the rain, following him out the doors. There's a makeshift walkway on the other side of the balcony, shoddily put together with planks from some sort of debri. You think this could very well have been flooring from somewhere else. It leads to another window, broken glass lays all over the inside and some of the shards still hang from the top, like they just didn't bother to care. You're careful to avoid those and step down in the room.  
  
  
Not even outside for possibly two minutes and you're already fucking soaked again. And to top it off, when you go back inside you see that the only thing blocking where you came from and here is a pile of packaged up boxes. You turn back to the grunt with an analytical look on your face, only to see that he was watching you.  
  
  
“Mr. Guzma likes his privacy,” he offers to you, shrugging. You don't understand why he got defensive or why the fuck Guzma would make his grunts and himself walk through the rain every time they left. He keeps walking to the very end of the hall and waits outside of the door until you get there. The grunt looks you up and down and although you're not self conscious, you know you must looked like a drowned rat. Your tank and capris and shoes are again drenched and your long blonde hair is matted to your shoulders. Your hat is probably ruined at this point. He shrugs, takes a deep breath and opens the door.  
  
  
“I brought her to ya, boss. Jus’ like you asked.”  
  
  
Guzma’s room is unsurprisingly a disaster. A wild mess of soda cans, bottles of what you assume was alcohol, food wrappers and paper. Paint covers so much of the wall space you can only assume the original color from thin spaces between graffiti. There's a bed, huge and unkempt with sheets that look like they've seen better days, and oddly enough a literal treasure chest full of z crystals. And in the back middle of the room, is Guzma himself, white and black hair a fluffy mass atop his head, bags under his eyes signaling that sleep is not his biggest forte, and his disheveled clothes, baggy and dark. And the part that really gets you, is the fact that he's sitting in a chair done up in purple and on a riser to resemble a throne. Now this is just ridiculous and if you were in a better mood, you’d be laughing. He glances up from his laptop, sitting securely on an end table, and grins. It's something malicious and condescending and quite frankly it pisses you off to be looked down on.  
  
  
“Well look at that. The princess awakens,” the man stands. You hadn't gotten close to Guzma in Malie Gardens, keeping your distance for a pokemon battle and then allowing Kukui to take care of the rest. You didn't expect for the leader of Team Skull to be so tall. He’s slouching and still manages to beat your own 5’3” by a mile. You clench your good hand at your side and focus on staying angry, making damn sure you aren't going to be intimidated by him. “It’s not often we get visitors here. What would bring a sweet thing like you all the way out to Po Town?”  
  
  
“I’m here for yungoos.” You're thankful that your voice doesn't falter. “And was up to challenge you to rematch if your thugs hadn't taken my pokemon.” His eyebrows rise into his sunglasses and his grin widens.  
  
  
“A rematch huh?” He looks you up and down before his gaze catches your wrist and the z ring affixed to it. His smile falls and his mood takes a turn for the worst. The grunt beside you steps back. “Yer that cunt from Malie Gardens.” He straightens up, towering over you at his full height, and walks until he's leaning in your face. “What right didya have comin’ in here and treatin’ my boys this way? What makes you think you're going to get this yungoos now?” You stare him straight in the eye. You can't answer him. You're afraid that if you open your mouth, you'll fumble with words and you’d rather just keep your face steeled. He sneers at you and shrugs. “No answer. Lucky for you,” he begins, backing away, “we specialize in sellin’ pokemon. Tell you what, we'll letcha buy th’ kid’s yungoos back.” He sits back in his throne and fiddles around on his laptop. “Not to mention all the mental shit you done to the family. That’ll cost ya. But it doesn't look like ya have any money on ya.”  
  
  
“Give me my stuff and I’ll pay whatever you want.” He laughs at you, plain and harsh laughter.  
  
  
“Nah, nah, nah. That's not how we work here, babe. Finders keepers. Looks like you’ll have to pay another way.” He locks his eyes with yours. Even with your determination, you can't help but feel like he's looking straight through you, like he knows that you've nearly had it. “Tell ya what, you take care of these kids, fix ‘em food, maybe teach them how to win a fight, and when we say so, yer free to go. Maybe you'll even get your junk back.”  
  
  
“What about my pokemon! Where are they!” He looks mildly surprised by your outburst but quickly grins at you again.  
  
  
“I'll decide if ya can have ‘em back based on your, let's call it good behavior.”  
  
  
What choice do you have? You could leave and likely never see your pokemon again, but you'd get out of here with your dignity. But you know you can't. You can't leave them behind. Abandoning them would be one of the worst things you could do in your life, no matter the humiliation you have to go through. And that includes playing Cinderella to some shitty criminal organization. “Fine.”  
  
  
He laughs again, and moves from his chair, clapping his arm around your shoulder and turning you back towards the door. “You’ll see we ain't all that bad, princess. Maybe you’ll even wanna join us.” You feel dwarfed by his height, his hand spanning your entire shoulder, and the loud tone in his voice carries out into the hallway. You know he's celebrating his own small victory, proving to his underlings that he could win against you in someway. The grunt exits before you and Guzma shoves you out into the hallway, nearly driving you into the team Skull member. “Get ‘er set up for the night. She’s gotta long day tomorrow.” The door slams shut.  
  
  
The man beside you exhales deeply and pulls his bandana off his face. “What the fuck did you do to him?” You whip your head around to him.  
  
  
“Don’t talk so tough for someone who was just wetting his pants.” The grunts face slowly turns red.  
  
  
“You really have no idea do ya. That went smooth as hell. Really coulda ended up a whole lot worse. You need to learn some fear, girl.”  
  
  
“And you need to grow some balls.” He ignores you and leads you back through the exterior and to the room you were originally in. You go in without another word to him, seeing that the grunt from earlier is in there, her bandana and hat are off and her curly hair is beginning to frizz.  
  
  
“You lived? Great,” she says sarcastically and you make a mental note that all these grunts have horrible attitudes. How the hell are you going to put up with them? She's finishing up her nails from earlier and makes a final stroke before glancing up at you. “You're not sleeping in the beds like that again.”  
  
  
“Yea I didn't really plan on it.” You retort and, quite simply, begin making yourself at home. If you’re going to be stuck here, you’re going to make yourself as comfortable as possible. Your shoes are kicked off to the end of the bed you were in earlier and you hang your socks over the edge. You start to take your shirt off when the girl scoffs at you.  
  
  
“Fuck I didn't mean ya had to get naked. Shit. Let me get ya some fucking clothes. Stay here.” She leaves.  
  
  
“What have I done?” You sit on the end of the bed, staring at the cracks in the wall. You can't help but think that you should have left when you saw the hole in the bush. That wasn't an opportunity. That was a death wish. “ _Yea here's your yungoos but I might've been Team Skulls’ personal bitch._ I'm a fucking idiot.” But your pokemon need you. You can do this. You will do this and you will get your pokemon back.  
  
  
The grunt comes in the room again and throws a set of clothes at you and what seems to be some ace bandages. You’re suddenly aware of your wrist again. Fuck. “I hate to share a look with someone like you, but we’ll say I'm feeling generous and leave it. I'll accept your thanks now.”  
  
  
“Yea, thanks,” you murmur and unfold the clothes. It's of course one of their uniforms. You wonder if they even have other clothes in the mansion. Facing away from her, you strip and redress with these much dryer and surprisingly much better feeling clothes. You lay all your clothes out on the bed frame and hope they'll be dry tomorrow. You don't want to wear this stupid shirt for long. You look at grunt and see that she's watching you too. You're not embarrassed, you don't really get embarrassed, but you're a little miffed that she probably just watched you. “Don’t get too comfortable, hun. We don’t take too kindly to goody-two-shoes trainers here.” You roll your eyes.  
  
  
You remember earlier your thoughts of where they came from and you wonder what happened to her to bring her here. You make the decision to cross the room and sit at the end of her bed. “Let me see your nails,” you say and hold out your hand.  
  
  
“I don't need your help now, they're done.” But she hands her hand to you anyway. She obviously keeps up with hers a lot better than you ever have your own.  
  
  
“You got any white?” She groans but leans under her bed and pulls out a box. It must be the same she had when you heard all the rustling earlier.  
  
  
“This is what I got.” You dig around and find a white nail pen that seems like it seem better days. You remove the cap and start trying to flick the dried pieces off. “We bought those ‘cause we thought we'd be hella sick with the x’s too. Turns out none of us can use it worth a fuck.” The top finally chips off and you squeeze a little out of the end. You reach for her hand again. “If you fuck ‘em up I'll kick your ass.” You quickly get out an x on her ring finger and make an attempt to make the skull logo on her thumb, eventually having to reach for her chain to make sure it's right. You let her have her first hand back and she gives you the other. “Oh man, I'm gonna be hot shit!” She says gleefully, starting to blow on her nails. You finish the second hand and she looks at you contemplatively.  
  
  
“Thanks for getting me dry clothes.” You say it sincerely. She could have left you to get sick on top of all the shit that's gone down. And even if it was only out of pity, or because you were going to get naked, it's an act of kindness. She makes an expression like she isn't sure what to do.  
  
  
“I mean, yea it was no problem. Uh, thanks for the nails I guess.” You nod at her and stand back to go to your given bed. “Hey, lettin’ ya know now, some of the girls stay out pretty late. I dunno when they'll be back.” You just nod again. Your exhaustion is creeping back into you, your bones feeling heavier and heavier. Falling back into the bed, you can barely get the comforter down enough to lay under. It's not damp and you wonder if one of them changed the covers. The thought of your bed at home is the last coherent thought you manage. You think the grunt was still talking to you.


	3. Coaching with Contempt

It's midday and the sun is shining and the pidgeys are tweeting and it feels like a new morning.  
  
  
“Alright ya little shits! Ya boy Guzma has surprise for ya!” Except for it's not. You're not sure if the sun shines in Po Town. The rain stopped sometime in the morning, but grey skies and wet ground doesn't seem to make it any better in the large lawn of the mansion. At least you're not cold. You stand in front of as many Skull grunts they could manage to conjure up, a chunk looking like they'd just woke up, many seeming entirely indifferent, and most of them with their eyes burrowing daggers into you. You're sure some of them are the ones from yesterday in the Pokémon center. And for once, you're incredibly self conscious. “I've went and got you idiots a fucking trainer. Fuck knows ya didn't deserve it, but yer boy has to take care of his fam.” He places his hand on your shoulder and shoves you forward. You hate this. This was an even worse idea than he had last night. You wish you were waist deep in nasty laundry. “Now you're gonna listen to…” he stops and you turn to look at him. “What's even yer name?”  
  
  
“Its Moon.” There's a few snickers from the group and you can feel your cheeks burning. Guzma’s stupid grin curls up his cheeks.  
  
  
“What the fuck kind of name is Moon?”  
  
  
“What kind of fucking name is Guzma!” You retort angrily. He snorts.  
  
  
“Ya’ll just listen to, uh ha, Moon here and learn a fucking thing or two.” There are a few confirmations from the grunts and then Guzma turns to leave you with them.  
  
  
“Wait,” you call out before he can reach the house. “I'm going to need some pokemon.” He looks at you skeptically.  
  
  
“You're not gonna get them that easy.”  
  
  
“No. How am I supposed to train them without battling?” He nods in understanding and walks back up to you. He pulls his hand from his pocket and hands you a pokeball.  
  
  
“Treat ‘im good.” He walks off, waving nonchalantly behind him at his grunts. You turn back and you can't help but feel overwhelmed again. How were you supposed to do this? You don't know anything about teaching. And you certainly don't know if you can handle these people after yesterday.  
  
  
“Well, let’s do this. Who is first?” There's silence. A group of them begin talking and walk away and you just let them, how're you supposed to stop them? You nervously tap at the pokeball in your hand. There's a recognizable groan and the grunt who is your temporary roommate steps forward. It honestly makes you feel better.  
  
  
“Alright, Moon. Whad’ya gotta teach us?”  
  
  
“Uh, right. Let's start with a battle I guess.”  
  
  
“Sounds easy enough,” she throws her own pokemon forward and it releases. A rattata squeaks and bares its fangs at you. You throw the pokeball that Guzma handed you. You hope you can win with whatever the hell it is. The light flashes and an ariados pops out. This might turn out better than what you thought. The ariados turns, skeptical of it environment and when it lays its eyes on you, it immediately seems uninterested. It also begins to leave and within seconds it's scaling the wall to the second floor. Great.  
  
  
The grunts roar with laughter. This is humiliating and you feel like Guzma knew that it wouldn't listen to you. This is some sort of shit payback. You purse your lips before trying to put on a straight face and pivot back to the grunts.  
  
  
“Some kind of trainer you are,” one of them says still cracking up, bending to hold his stomach. The grunts around him snickering horribly. You point at him.  
  
  
“Okay, you. Question one, why -if Ariados had battle- why would rattata had lost?” He grins at you but stands straight, arms crossed.  
  
  
“That's easy,” he says. “Mr. Guzma’s pokemon are crazy better than ours.” You falter.  
  
  
“I, uh, no. That's just not… okay.” You think about your words carefully. “For the rest of these lessons, let's not look as certain pokemon as being better because of whose they are. In terms of these lessons, Guzma is now on the same playing field as you.” They seem stunned that you'd even compare their boss to them, but you continue. “So no, that's the wrong answer. You.” You point out another grunt, he's a little shorter than the rest and towards the front. He’s alarmed at being pointed out. “Same question. Why would rattata have lost?”  
  
  
The grunt blinks at you and kind of looks at the others for an answer but never responds to you. Your opponent sighs. “It's because he’s a dark type.”  
  
  
“Thank you!” You exclaim and throw your hands up. “Before you ever assume that you’ll lose because of a pokemon’s level, think of whether or not you have an advantage.”  
  
  
“Oh that's easy. What kind of bullshit question is that?” The laughing grunt says in annoyance.  
  
  
“Then next time, don't give me a dumb answer if you know the real one.” You ignore him and glance at the rest of the group. “If rattata is dark, what is he strong against?”  
  
  
Some hands go up and you're surprised. A little recognition probably doesn't hurt. You point in the middle of the group towards a taller girl with messy hair sticking out of her hat. “Ghost!”  
  
  
“Good! What else?” You choose another person.  
  
  
“Psychic?”  
  
  
“Look at that, you all are smarter than you look.” The rattata has moved to her trainer by the time you look again. “I guess you can put her away if you want. No point in a battle if the pokemon won't listen to me.” She nods but leaves the rattata free. “So I guess some of you know type matchups and some of you don’t. I think this is a basic that every trainer should understand in order to have an advantage.”  
  
  
“So what, yer assigning us homework?”  
  
  
“Yea woah I didn't sign up for that shit.”  
  
  
“Believe me, I'd rather not even have to deal with you, but if you'd like to take up this position with your boss, I would absolutely love to leave.” They don't say a word and you frown. It was worth a shot.  
  
  
You see a hand fly up into the air. “Yes?”  
  
  
“Alright so type or whatevs, but most of us only have a few pokemon. How're we supposed to stand up to people like you who have a lot?”  
  
  
“Short answer, get stronger. No offense, but one on one I was able to wipe the floor with most of you. Reason being my team were stronger than yours and I know my type advantages. Do you even train your pokemon? Like you have a whole field out those walls with wild pokemon. And you have each other. Like have some battles. You can't just expect it to happen.” They seem to at least consider the information you've given them, but you have to ensure that they're actually going to do this. “Let's make this fun. I will assign teams. Within these teams, I expect you to learn your type matchups and also to level your pokemon. Whichever teams can accomplish both of these within my unfortunate stay here, wins.” Light bulbs start going off in some of their heads.  
  
  
“What're we gonna win?”  
  
  
“Uhhhh, I don't know, the title of being better than the other ones? I’ll think of something. Stand in a line so I can make your teams.” You're honestly surprised they manage to make a decent line, the way the scramble and push and shove each other around. Starting at the left, you give every 5 grunts a letter, the first being A, second B, and so on through E until you're left with your roommate. Making the group an uneven 31. You remember the ones running off earlier and wonder if you should go find them before you're struck with an idea. “You’ll be on my team.” She’s dumbstruck for a moment.  
  
  
“Excuse me?”  
  
  
“I don't know how to deal with this bunch of how this place functions. You can be on my team and help me deal with them.”  
  
  
“So like I'm getting a promotion?”  
  
  
“Uhh, for this purpose, yes.”  
  
  
“Oh man! That's so dope, girl!” She grins and smacks your arm.  
  
  
“So feel free to ask me any questions. I'll answer all of them as best I can. I expect to be checked in with if you all are serious.” Some of them shuffle around but they just continue looking at you. “You can leave I guess.” They run off quickly, some with their groups and some just by themselves. At least that's fucking over.  
  
  
“Hey,” you say to the grunt next you. “What's your name?” She blinks at you. You've never heard them refer to each other by name.  
  
  
“Grunt.” You stifle a laugh.  
  
  
“No really, what's your name? Like your real one. I'm not going to call everyone here grunt, that's stupid.” She looks distrustfully at you but finally opens her mouth.  
  
  
“It's Cheri,” she replies quietly.  
  
  
“Alright, Cheri. We’re going to have some work to do.”

 

“Moon, you can't just go in there.” Cheri is following you over the balcony. You're heading towards Guzma’s room with a bone to pick about that Ariados. You might be stuck here but you're not just going to take humiliation laying down.  
  
  
“It'll be fine,” you reply. You really have no idea what’ll happen when you go and chuck this pokeball at his stupid face. “I have to return this, no big deal.”  
  
  
“I don't peg you as the type a girl to not make a ‘big deal’. How ‘bout you just let me return it to the boss?” You climb down the window back into the house, waiting for her to come through.  
  
  
“No I think it's my responsibility to return it. Since he so kindly gave it to me and all.” You start to turn around down the hall but she catches your arm.  
  
  
“Look, I like ya pretty alright and I don't want to see your dumbass get hurt over something like this.” You face her in disbelief.  
  
  
“Why are you all so afraid of him? Like I can't get why you would be so afraid of someone but still fucking respect them.” Her lips tighten into a thin line but she doesn't reply. “I'm not going to be afraid of him. That kind of power has already gone to his head enough.” You remove her fingers from your arm and continue down the hall and before she can stop you, you throw the door open. Guzma is leaning back in his chair, scrolling on his laptop. His nonchalance immediately pisses you off, but then he looks at you with that fucking grin and you wish you could fucking make him eat this pokeball.  
  
  
“Do you actually want me to train your ‘boys’ or do you just want me to look like an idiot?”  
  
  
“What's wrong with both?” He chuckles. You throw the empty pokeball at him hard enough you hear the impact with his chest. He frowns.  
  
  
“You can have your pokemon back. Seems pretty useless in battle.”  
  
  
“There ain't anythin’ wrong with my pokemon.”  
  
  
“No I'm sure they're great! Except they're yours. And from experience, I can vouch that I ran them into the fucking dirt.”  
  
  
“You're about to regret that mouth.”  
  
  
“Give me a better pokemon.”  
  
  
“There's nothing fucking wrong with mine!”  
  
  
“Then make it listen to me!”  
  
  
He crosses the room so fast that you hardly register what's happening until the door is slammed shut and Guzma has you by the arm. “Let's get some things straight, princess. If I give you something, you're gonna see it as a gift. And you’ll fucking appreciate it.” You attempt to wrench your arm away but he holds it tighter and you wince. “Nuh uh. I'm not finished. You’re free to leave whenever you want, but while you're here, I'm in control. And everythin’ ya do to challenge that will have consequences. And ya don’t want anything to happen to your team, do ya?” You want to punch him in his stupid face. His height dwarfs you, but if you could get one good punch in, you'd fucking take it. “Answer me.”  
  
  
“Fine.” He let's go of your arm and the blood goes rushing back to it. You didn't even realize it was going numb, but the pain is suddenly intense and sharp. It brings your anger back out.  
  
  
“Good. Now get out.” You rush out the door and slam it behind you. Cheri is standing at the end of hall and she frowns. You forgo the balcony and shove the boxes out of your way and climb over the remaining, causing what destruction hasn't been made in here. Your room calls your name and you throw yourself onto your bed, curling into an angry ball.  
  
  
You want to go home. This never would have happened if you had just turned back. You'd be out under the stars with your pokemon. Hauntly would be scaring the shit out of your lycanroc, Cina would be snoring in his sleep and you’d be feeding Baby, your Golisopod, pokebeans. But no, you had to do this. You needed to be the hero, but you can't. You aren't the person those stories are about. You're just a shitty girl who got her pokemon taken from her.  
  
  
You're alone in the room for a while. There are sounds from the other rooms and some grunts running through the halls, and you end up dozing for a bit. You barely even hear your door open. There's a weight on the end of your bed. “I told you so,” Cheri says.  
  
  
“Yeah thanks for that.”  
  
  
“The boys have been asking about you. They got some questions.” You roll over to face her.  
  
  
“Can they wait?”  
  
  
“I've been keepin’ ‘em out but I dunno how many more questions I can answer.”  
  
  
“Yea okay fine.” You sit up and straighten your shirt. She observes you for a second.  
  
  
“Girl you look like shit,” she comments and you scowl. She stands up and throws you a hair brush. You brush your hair down. “I'm gonna let ‘em in okay?”  
  
  
“How many are there??”

Ten minutes later and fifteen grunts have shoved themselves in the room, sitting all along the beds and the floor and you're shoved in the corner, sitting on the window sill. One of them even has a notebook and you're genuinely surprised. You didn't expect them to take anything seriously.  
  
  
“So uh, you all had some questions?”  
  
  
“Yea! I wanna know what my girl’s good against.” A grunt from the farthest bed says. He’s a larger man and isn't wearing his hat or bandana.  
  
  
“You don't know?”  
  
  
“Nah. I jus’ got her the other day.” He looks down sheepishly. “But I wanna raise her real special, ya know.”  
  
  
“Alright, we’ll work on that then. Well, do we just want to go through some matchups? I can give you all a list to study or something?”  
  
  
“Yea that's awesome!”  
  
  
You didn't expect them to actually want to learn, but these grunts are trying to just soak up as much information as possible from you. And you honestly enjoy it. The way they're asking questions and the one shared some paper with the others. Some of them are just typing them in phones or pokedexes. It's amazing.  
  
  
“Hey, yo. What level will my Mareanie evolve at?”  
  
  
“That's a good question! Uh, you, how much of your pokedex do you have filled out?” The grunt with the pokedex looks up at you.  
  
  
“I dunno.” She replied shortly.  
  
  
“Um. How do you not know?”  
  
  
“It ain't mine.” You just nod at her slowly. Okay. You just won't broach that topic, it's fine, let it go.  
  
  
“Well, then, to tell you the truth,” you turn back to the first grunt. “I'm not sure. I hadn't caught one yet.”  
  
  
“What do you mean you hadn't caught one yet! Aren't you like all knowing or somethin’?”  
  
  
“I can spit out a lot of information about a lot of pokemon. But I've never seen half of the pokemon here. I've only been in Alola for like 3 months.”  
  
  
“Holy shit! Really? Where ya from?” You take it as even though these islands are an obvious tourist place, they really don't get to interact with people from other countries much. It'd make sense for them to stay in Alola their whole life.  
  
  
“No, no. Look if I'm gonna tell you all about me, you have to tell me about you.” Some of them shift uncomfortably and you're confused. “I mean I guess you don't have to but if I'm going to be here, I don't want to just call you all ‘you’ and ‘you’ and ‘you’. I'd like to get to know you.” A grunt stands up from the front. He looks a lot younger than the rest.  
  
  
“I'm Marshall.” He says firmly.  
  
  
“Good to meet you Marshall.” He blushes fiercely and quickly scrambles back down. He couldn't be older than twelve, but you don't question it. It's probably not the time. A taller girl stands from the back and crosses her arms.  
  
  
“Yo, my name’s Zandra and I ain’t from here either.” A lot of the grunts turn to her, some wide-eyed and it seems to make her nervous. “I'm from Hoenn. My dad made us come when I was a kid.” There are a few whispers and she glares at them. “Don't nun uh y'all be talkin shit or I’ll beatcha ass.” They quickly shut up and she sits down. This goes on for a few minutes, some of them only give you their name and you're okay with that. You didn't mean for this to be some weird feelings anonymous group, but it genuinely comforts you to know that some of these men and women and kids were just ordinary people.  
  
  
“It's your turn,” Ian, the grunt who had asked about you first, says.  
  
  
“Yea, okay. I lived in Kanto with my mom and dad. We lived in Viridian City which is one of the last places you go before the Pokemon League. In Kanto, we have gyms instead of trials and gym leaders instead of captains. And Viridian City had the strongest Gym Leader.”  
  
  
“That town sounds familiar.” Another grunt turns to him.  
  
  
“Yea it was like in the news or some shit. Like years ago.” Some of the younger ones look confused.  
  
  
“Yea, Team Rocket was founded in Viridian. That Gym Leader was who started the whole thing.” There are some excited whispers and Cheri clears her throat to get them to be quiet.  
  
  
“So what made ya’ll move to Alola?”  
  
  
“Um,” you freeze for a minute. You realize that within the three months you've been here, you haven't had to talk about this. Hau knew before you got here, Kukui had told him and Hala. Lillie never asked and you guess you were thankful she hadn't because now that you have been, you aren't sure what to say. “I actually just moved here with my mom. My dad passed away. And rather than my mom trying to find work in Kanto, she thought that this would be a, uh, better opportunity for us both.” The group shifts uncomfortably and you look at the bed sheets. “He had been working in a lab in Saffron and he'd been exposed to some pretty nasty shit. Turns out Team Rocket owned the lab and they'd been tricking a lot of the scientists into doing all these crazy experiments. There were a lot of them exposed. My dad was just one of few to die from it.” You can feel your eyes starting to get hazy and you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from crying. You didn't really mean to keep talking, it just sort of happened. Maybe you just needed to let it out but you have these grunts so much information about yourself. Now you just feel upset and uncomfortable.  
  
  
Cheri seems to read the mood and she shifts off the bed. “Alright, I think we're done for the night. Time to get out of my room.” There are some groans as they stand and they thankfully start talking so loudly that you can breath again without them hearing a sob. The little one, Marshall, runs up and hugs you before following the others out the door. You wipe the tears out of your eyes while Cheri escorts the rest out of your room. You're again struck with the knowledge that you still don't know what these kids are here for.  
  
  
The door clicks closed and Cheri looks at you with a tired expression. “Sorry, Moon. I didn't think-” You wave your hand at her.  
  
  
“No it's fine. I hadn't let it out yet.” Chuckling, you look up at the ceiling as more tears try to come out. You exhale to try to calm down again. Cheri flops down on your bed and after a minute of silence, you look at her.  
  
  
“Cheri, why are you here?” She blinks at you in surprise, like no one ever cared to ask her and then she looks away.  
  
  
“My dad kicked me out,” she says flatly. “He was a drunk half the time, but I couldn't win any battles or get any cash or hold a job. He told me I was worthless and threw me out on the street.” You contemplate saying sorry, but you don't think she’d appreciate it. Instead you grab her hand.  
  
  
“Thanks for telling me.” She laughs and yanks her hand away.  
  
  
“Look girl I'm gay but I ain't that sappy gay. You can keep that shit.” You both laugh and she leaves to her side of the room. You're both quiet as you get ready for bed and she turns the lights out. You're staring up at the ceiling, listening to the light drizzle of rain when she speaks up again. “This place is the first place I've ever felt like I belonged to somethin’. I know we’ve caused you shit and we do a lot of bad stuff, but we’re a family and we take care of each other.” You're both quiet again.  
  
  
“I thought you said you weren't the sappy gay.” A pillow hits you in the face.  
  
  
“Shut up!” She laughs.  
  
  
You fall asleep much easier than the night before. If the days went like the end of this one, you think you might make it out of this okay.


	4. This is War

For a week, you’re stuck teaching the grunts like you’re some sort of teaching-slave and they’re your slave-students. It’s easy to tell that a lot of them just absolutely don’t want to be near you or listen to anything that you say, probably just as much as you really don’t want to be here talking to them. But their boss is very adamant about them getting stronger. And very adamant about not giving your Pokémon back. You’re not certain if it’s really to help them or to just drive you fucking crazy. It could be both. But you demand, strongly demand, that you have at least one day off. Which is where you are now, laying in bed trying to nap.  
  
  
It’s in vain. The grunts seem to be in absolutely some sort of riot stage, running around the manor screaming and cheering and you suppose throwing shit because every so often you hear things hitting walls and possibly glass breaking. You’re literally going to go crazy in this house. There’s a fist against the door, startling you, and opening to reveal Lea. She’s without her hat and bandana, her hair a bit of a mess and her cheeks are red.  
  
  
“What’re you doin’ up here by yourself?”  
  
  
“I’m just, I dunno, enjoying the not-silence I guess.” Lea leans against the doorframe, shaking her hand in her hair and laughs.  
  
  
“Girl, come on downstairs. Come get your drink on.”  
  
  
“My ‘drink’ on. Like alcohol?” You push yourself up in the bed.  
  
  
“Are you serious? Y’ain’t ever had a drink?”  
  
  
“I’m. Well no.” She grins, grabbing your wrist and pulling you up from the bed.  
  
  
“Come on! We’ll getcha taken care of.” You’re dragged out into the hallway and towards the stairs. You want to protest, the only time you’ve drank anything was like a glass of red wine with your mom after your dad passed. It was fine you guess, but it’s not something that you super loved the feeling. You suppose that could be because you were thinking about your dead father the whole time.  
  
  
As you're brought down, some of the grunts start shouting, catcalling and hooting at you. Lea sits you down next to Ian and Cheri comes and flops down on your other side, chuckling as she falls harder than what she meant to. You can almost smell the alcohol seeping off of her. Especially when she sits back up and grabs your face.  
  
  
“Moooooon, you shouldn’t be alone. We got you girl. We got you.” She grabs a drink being brought to her by someone else, you’re not sure who because she still has your face in her hand, and she starts to bring the drink to your mouth. You try to hold onto her but she pushes right through your hands and tips the cup into your mouth leaving you with two options. You take the less messy option and open your mouth. It’s disgusting, making you swallow quickly rather than hold it in. You guess it’s what they could afford, but it’s almost bitter and makes you want to gag. But you also immediately feel the warmth flowing through your chest and shoulders.  
  
  
Cheri lets up so you can breathe and you go into a coughing fit. “There ya go girl. Take ya a minute.”  
  
  
“Fuck, what is that?” She takes a sip of it and scrunches her face together.  
  
  
“Eugh, the strong shit. Nasty as fucck.” She tilts it into your mouth again. It doesn’t suck nearly as much the second time and you try to swallow a good deal down so maybe she’ll let you be. Yea right.

 

“So no, no no. I’ve had Hauntly for a loooong time. I didn’ even know there were gastly on the islands!”  
  
  
“Oh my god, really?”  
  
  
“Yea like listen. There’s this place in, in Kanto, where I’m from. It’s called Lavender Town. And it has this tower there when I was little that was like a _huuuuuge_ pokemon cemetery. I think it’s like a radio tower or somethin now.”  
  
  
“Holy shit what?”  
  
  
“Oh yea! Everybody knew a pokemon that had been buried there. But we went to put flowers on my dad’s arcanine from when he was a kid. And this gastly just followed us around absolutely everywhere. Ended up haunting me all the way back home. Had ‘im ever since.”  
  
  
“Shit I couldn’t do a ghost type. I can’t even stand seein’ boss’ bugs everywhere.” Ian shivers and holds himself.  
  
  
“Fuckin’ right!” Cheri shouts.  
  
  
“I mean look. You live with a ghost and there isn’t much more that’s gonna scare you.”  
  
  
“Ugh. I guess. Let’s talk about somethin else that ain’t bugs or ghosts.”  
  
  
Someone passes you another cup and you take it. You’re not completely certain how many you’ve had, but you’ve quickly learned that you’re a lightweight. One was enough to have you a little wobbly. Looking over, you think at least four of those are yours. But you drink this last one down as someone starts talking about a board game. You lean into Cheri while they set it up, shoving cards and pieces at people. You don’t even think all of those are from the same game. But you’re not going to play as is.  
  
  
“Hey Cheri, speaking of bugs, why isn’t boss-almighty down here? This seems like his kinda shit.” She hums at you, shaking her head as she swallows her drink. You’ve not had it yet, it’s in a bottle and you make a reach for it. She let’s it go easily.  
  
  
“He doesn’t drink or smoke with us. He jus’ stays upstairs.” She starts whispering. “It's a good thing though. He has a habit of pickin’ fights when he’s drunk.” You groan at her in disgust and take a swig of her bottle. It’s a lot fruitier than what you’ve been drinking and you’re jealous. She takes it back from you and shakes the bottle at Marshall who is sitting on the cooler. They only let him have one. Which you’re absolutely relieved about. Baby too little to be drinking.  
  
  
You find a bottle of it in your hands before you look at Cheri again. “I wasn’t aware that he could be more of a prick.” She snorts.  
  
  
“Well… to be honest yea.” She laughs to herself, trying to stay quiet. “You’d be surprised. Just like, avoid him.”  
  
  
“Ugh that’s all you all ever do.”  
  
  
“And we’re alive aren’t we?”  
  
  
“Well I guess…. Pansy.” You both break out laughing, absolutely losing your shit and almost falling back onto the floor. As if on cue, when you open your eyes, you see Guzma standing in his _special_ hallway, leaning over his _special_ banister with a bottle in his hand. He wasn’t looking at you but when you see him, it’s like he knows you were going to look and your eyes meet. He looks bored as well as frustrated. You laugh again and flip him off before taking a big drink. He’s gone when you look back up.  
  
  
“You really can’t do what everyone else does, can you?” Cheri lays down next to you on the floor. “Mmm, I hope you make it through this. I kinda like you.”  
  
  
“Awwww. That’s fuckin’ gross.” You tell her and bop her nose with your finger.  
  
  
“Oh fuck yea it was. You must just have some sort of weird thing where you make people say weird shit.”  
  
  
“Oh god maybe. That would explain so much.” No one is really playing the game that had been brought out. Every so often you’ll see someone throw a card in but there’s nothing to it. You realize people are getting tired, laying either there on the floor or trying to make their way upstairs. You aren’t really tired, but with how everyone is, you decide that maybe you should go claim your bed before someone else manages to get it. You have a feeling that it would end up a fight. “Hey, let’s go to bed.”  
  
  
“Why, what time is it?”  
  
  
“Oh um. I dunno.”  
  
  
“Mm. That might be a good idea then.” You both sit up and help each other gather your stuff and make it up the stairs. There are already girls laid all over their beds but yours manages to be free. Cheri’s also ends up free when she wraps another girl in the blanket and sets her off the bed with your help. She doesn’t even wake up. You sit your bottle in the windowsill when you climb into your bed. It’s raining outside, but just a gentle pattering against the window and you immediately feel so heavy and tired.  
  
  
“Goodnight Cheri.” You look over at her and she’s already out, completely gone. God you hope that you fall asleep that

 

 

You groan. Your eyes adjusting to the dark when they open, it’s obviously still dark outside. Why are you awake? Rolling over to face the room, everyone is still asleep, snoring away in their own beds when it finally hits you. You really fucking have to pee. You sigh in annoyance but roll to stand off the bed anyway. If you make it quick, maybe your body will decide to go back to sleep peacefully.  
  
  
“Guys come on. Some of us actually have to use the bathroom.” You smack your fist against the bathroom door again but the grunts that are in there just ignore you, obviously having some good good fun. Moans fill the bathroom again and you roll your eyes and groan. “God dammit you all. I _swear_ if I figure out who you are imma beat your ass.” You turn around and slam your back against the door.  
  
  
You haven’t figured out why there is a severe lack of toilets in this place, one on this side of the floor, one on Guzma’s side of the floor, and the ever-broken toilet on the bottom floor. You would imagine that in a house as large as this one, the previous owners may have put enough bathrooms to be adequate. Then again, they likely didn’t think that there were going to be so many people living in their house.  
  
  
You stare across the banisters to the other side of the floor. Surely Guzma was asleep by now. Surely. You look to your left and then to your right, you don’t see anything and you certainly don’t hear anything over the commotion going on behind you. Pushing off the wall, you very quietly step your way through the wall of boxes and to the bathroom that has specifically been claimed for Guzma, as if he has a reason to need this whole bathroom.  
  
  
The door is unlocked, not that you ever thought that it would be or anything. The bathroom is just as much of a mess as the rest of the house, maybe even grosser with the fact that there are shaved hairs all over the sink and the toilet looks like it hasn’t been scrubbed in… a while. The rest of the house’s bathrooms stay relatively clean since most of the girls would anarchy at the thought of this mess. You try not to think about it as you quickly do your business. Standing back up, you pause to wonder if you should flush. No. Not only would he hear you if you were to flush it, but also the idea of leaving him a dirty toilet is just a great idea. In fact… You start moving his things around. Not terribly noticeable you don’t think, but enough that he’ll be confused in the morning.  
  
  
Satisfied, you turn the light off and gently click the door open.You look down the hall towards the broken windows, floor as clear as it was when you went through earlier. Pushing it open, the door is abruptly stopped halfway, a large hand wrapping around the side. Well. God fucking dammit. Guzma slinks his way around the door, slumping his body against the doorframe as you back away. He is still very drunk. “Well if it ain’t our resident princess. What? You thinkin’ you can just go wherever the fuck you want now? That you can just fuckin’ do whatever?”  
  
  
“I just needed to use the bathroom. The other one… the other one was occupied.” You hold your hands up defensively. He snorts at you, extending an arm across to the other side of the frame, effectively blocking your exit.  
  
  
“I think yer full of shit. You think I didn’ hear you clinkin’ around in my shit?”  
  
  
“Look, okay, sorry. Haha, it was a joke.”  
  
  
“And now you got jokes? Well I don't think yer real funny..” He steps toward you.  
  
  
“Guzma, you’re drunk. Calm down.” He swings, grabbing you by the arm, and slamming you into the wall. You yelp when your head smacks sharply back.  
  
  
“Don’t you fuckin’ tell me to calm down!” He’s close enough that you can smell the alcohol on his breath, his pupils are blown and his eyes filled with some sort of malice. “I think yer havin’ a hard time learnin’ the rules around here. How long you think it’s gonna be before you start gettin’ in trouble?”  
  
  
“Guzma.” His hand moves from your arm and slowly trails to hold your neck firmly. His hand is huge, quite literally encompassing your entire neck. You don’t move and certainly don’t look away from him.  
  
  
“You’re much too cute fer you to be runnin’ around at night. ‘Specially with half these boys round here with somethin’ to drink. Everything ya do is just putting you right in trouble.”  
  
  
“Guzma, let me go.” You sternly stare at him, his thumb running up the bottom of your chin and pushing you to look level with his face. Closer now, so close that you feel the heat from his body as he towers over you.  
  
  
“And what happens if I don’t? What’s a little thing like you gonna do?”  
  
  
“Guzma!” Guzma jumps, his grey eyes widening, and looks over in the doorway, your gaze following his. You recognize her, the girl in the doorway. She’s tall, hair down and multi-colored, pink and yellow. Guzma drops you, shuffling back until he hits the sink.  
  
  
“Plums, I-” Plumeria. That was it. She’s standing just out of the door, holding a bag over her shoulder, and harshly looking him over.  
  
  
“The hell were you doin’ to the new girl?”  
  
  
“Hey! I didn’ do jack shit. She’s the one who was fuckin’-”  
  
  
“Fuck, Guz, yer goddamn drunk again. I leave for two weeks and ya can’t even keep yer shit together. Ya smell like a goddamn brewery.” You look from her, to him, and back again. You have to get out of here. Pulling your leg back, you swiftly kick it forward, effectively doubling Guzma over as you knee him in the dick.  
  
  
“Son of a- You fucking bitch!” You’re already out the door and running to the other side of the floor.  
  
  
“Drunkass piece of shit!” You scream back at him, running into your room and locking the door behind you. You’re gasping for breath, hardly able to process oxygen in your lungs. There’s arguing on the other side of the house, mostly Plumeria as far as you can tell. You make your way to the bed, falling down on top of it. What kind of absolute hell is this place.  
  
  
You really don’t know what you would have done if Plumeria hadn’t shown up. You would have figured something out, found something in the room and beat him in the fucking face with it. Stupid. So fucking stupid. You’ve never dealt with someone so unruly. Someone who literally didn’t even fucking know how to behave, didn’t know how to control themselves. Or maybe fucking didn’t want to. Next time he comes at you, it doesn’t fucking matter why, you’re punching him in the nose.  
  
  
Sleep eludes you until there’s a grey lit version of the sun coming in the window.


	5. Progress, Bugs, and Moonlight Sonatas

By the time you wake up the next day, there are no other girls in your room. You aren’t even sure what time it is, it looks exactly the same as when you finally made it to sleep. Do you even want to go see what time it is? Do you even want to leave this room? What’s even the fucking point?  
  
  
You lay for what feels like hours. Your mom is probably worried sick, you normally call at least every couple of days. Guzma probably wouldn't even give a shit if you asked for at least your dex back. Probably just laugh at you. He said you could leave. But you aren't sure if leaving forfeits your Pokémon up for grabs. You're not even sure if he even actually kept them.  
  
  
Last night flashes through your head and you move your hand to your neck. It doesn't feel bruised. You don't think that he had it that tight. Piece of shit. You’re not an idiot. You know what he was alluding to, you know what could have happened. You also know that you would have killed him the moment he went to sleep. Or there were plenty of objects in that bathroom that you could have used as a weapon. As if you didn't already feel incredibly unsafe when you were alone with anyone who wasn't one of your ‘roommates’.  
  
  
You had forgotten about Plumeria. Not on purpose, she just hadn't really been where your head space was. On one hand, you're incredibly thankful she showed up to stop him. He even seemed genuinely… not fearful, but he was very concerned when she caught him. But then on the other hand, what you wouldn't have given to beat the hell out of him. He was much bigger than you, but you were quick and everybody in this damn house would get a good look at a black eye and a broken nose.  
  
  
No one has come to check on you yet. There's no way anyone would have known what happened. No one even woke up. At least you really hope they didn’t. If one of your friend’s had, they’d likely be in here to check on you at this point. But hopefully no one else heard. There’s some people that you really hope they just really don’t want to know what happened.  
  
  
Your friends probably think you're horribly hungover. They all knew it was your first time drinking. You just feel so listless, like just all of your energy and all of your sense of caring has left. Hiked off and said fuck you.  
  
  
A thought hits you. If you stay in this room, if you don't make an obvious effort to at least look okay, he could take that as a victory. Guzma seems to like it when he gets on your nerves, when he makes himself an obvious asshole. No. You're not going to let him win. You're not going to allow him anymore victories over you.  
  
  
You get the fuck out of the bed.

You're not training anyone today. Between grunts having aggressive hangovers and you just not being in the mindset for it, you just send away anyone who asks and questions. You’ll take care of them tomorrow when hopefully all of you feel better. Instead, your day is spent doing chores to keep you occupied. You help Marshall with some dishes, Cheri and you do a mound of laundry, and you even try your best to straighten some of the rooms downstairs, with the help of big buff dude Kei. It’s a step in a decent direction and you honestly just need something to keep your head from thinking too hard about anything, depression trying to creep in something awful.  
  
  
Kei and yourself, but mostly Kei, are moving a couch to the other side of the room when Ian pops his head in the door.  
  
  
“Hey Moon, can you come upstairs in a minute?” The two of you drop the couch and Kei scoots it all the way against the wall.  
  
  
“Yea, I'll be right up.” He probably needs help sorting laundry. Arceus knows none of these people heard of separating your colors from your darks before. You tell Kei that you suppose the two of you are done and thank him for his help, and then you leave the back rooms to go upstairs and help.  
  
  
Ian isn't anywhere to be seen as you're walking up the steps, which isn't very like Ian, but as you turn left to go to the boys room, someone clears their throat behind you.  
  
  
“New girl.”  
  
  
You turn around to see Plumeria at the end of the hallway, standing against the wall to her room. “Oh. Hey.” She pushes herself up with her shoulder and motions her head back to her door.  
  
  
“Come on. We're gonna talk.” You take a second to register but you finally nod and go ahead towards her. She pops her bedroom door open, letting you enter first. You've never been in her room. It is likely the cleanest place in this entire town. The walls are painted nicely, her carpet is without the nasty feel of too many years of dirt, her bed frame is pristine with newer bedding and pokedolls. You're stunned. Plumeria walks over, sitting on her bed and sighing. “Have a seat.” You see a vanity chair and decide to sit there.  
  
  
“It's nice to actually meet you I guess.” The only time the two of you had ever interacted was when you’d been beating some of the grunts and she'd stepped in. Beyond that, you have no idea what she's like.  
  
  
“Yea,” she says calmly. “Listen. I get that you're not really here for fun and games and shits and giggles. Guzma can be an ass and can go too far. That said, I want to apologize for last night.” You're floored. The fuck is she apologizing for. “He has a tendency to… overreact to things and that includes how he handles situations. Especially when I'm not here to reel his dumbass back in. I just want to let you know that he's normally not like that.” You lock eyes with her blankly.  
  
  
“Plumeria. I. I don't accept.” Her eyes widen in shock. “Not that I don't appreciate you stepping in last night, I do. But you have no reason to apologize and you certainly shouldn't be apologizing for him. He's a damn adult and can apologize for himself. So thank you kindly for stopping him last night, but I'm going to decline the apology.”  
  
  
She assesses you for a moment, watching your face and your body language, giving you a look over. You don't move, face confident.  
  
  
“Fine,” she shrugs. “He won't get like that again.” You nod at her. “You okay though? I know this place isn't anything you're used to, so if ya really need something, I can get it for you.”  
  
  
“I...hm.” There's nothing you can think of. You want to talk to your mom, but you doubt that letters would make it home and back. Especially if you had to rely on the grunts to deliver them. You’d love some vegetables, but they likely wouldn't keep here too long. That might be worth it though. Maybe later. And just like that you remember your medication. It was in your bag. You've had issues taking it in the past, so it hadn't even crossed your mind. It’s been an on and off thing for a while now, and although this is probably a time that you’d need it, you don't need something else for Guzma to hold over your head. “I can't think of anything right now, thanks. I'll think about it though.”  
  
  
“Yea, suit yourself. You're free to find me anytime. Even if Guzma is being an asshole. I'm not some bitch that's gonna watch a girl suffer.”  
  
  
“I really appreciate it.”   
  


Two days pass and you don't have any more run ins with Guzma. The grunts that you consider your ragtag team of friends grows a little more as each of them get more into the idea of getting stronger. Yesterday, the group of you all took turns battling. You at one point mentioned that you wished they had more of a selection of pokemon and they began talking about going out and getting more. You thought this was a wonderful idea until you realized they meant stealing them and you declined. “If you all steal pokemon, I guess I'm not in a position to stop you, but just know that they won't listen to you as well in battle. It'd be useless and you shouldn't do it.” It seemed to convince them enough and they said they wouldn't steal for this then. Instead you managed to take a group of them out of the wall into the nearby field. They trained in turns for hours against the wild pokemon and each other. It was a good experience with a lot of smiling faces in the end and you gained this weird sense of pride to be helping these wayward children.  
  
  
But today, you're just taking it easy, sitting back and watching them improve on their own. Cheri comes to sit down beside you in the grass, bringing an extra soda and tosses it to you. You mutter a thanks and pop it open. You've never ate so much junk food in your life. You've thought about convincing some of them to go get some groceries, whether they had to steal them or not. You'd kill for some fruit right now. “Don’t you want to join them?” You ask her. She hasn't really expressed an interest in battling with them past the first day, mostly just chilling around with you.  
  
  
“Nah. I'm pretty content with how Ratbaby is.”  
  
  
“You don't want her to be a Raticate?” She considers this and flips at the tab on her sodacan.  
  
  
“I mean if it happens, it happens. But if she's chill with where she is and I'm chill with where she is, there's not a reason to make her change.”  
  
  
“That's a very philosophical thing to hear from you.”  
  
  
“Pffsh.” She rolls her eyes.  
  
  
“Holy shit!!” You look back at the grunts in front of you who are forming a tight circle, all beginning to shout.  
  
  
“What's their deal?” Cheri stands up and you follow suit, both of you jogging over towards the group and pushing your way to the front. In the middle of the group is Marshall. He’s hugging a newly evolved Lurantis and absolutely yelling with delight.  
  
  
“Look at that!” You shout. “Rose, where's your pokedex?”  
  
  
“Oh right!” The small pink haired grunt pulls out her stolen pokedex and it begins to read the entry. Marshall is beaming at you and runs to include you in his and Lurantis’ hug.  
  
  
“This is great! I didn't think I could do this!” You laugh and hug him back.  
  
  
“Of course you could!” You pull out of his arms. “All you all need is some encouragement! I bet you all could do all kinds of things! Good things even!” They're like literal children, smiling with their eyes and staring at the Lurantis in wonder. “But you all still have some improving to do. This definitely puts Marshall and his team in the lead.”  
  
  
“Oh man!”  
  
  
“Shit, no!”  
  
  
“Rhys! Why'd you lose?!”  
  
  
“Dude! His fomantis was way stronger!”  
  
  
They all go off into their own separate battles again and Marshall runs off to get the Lurantis a treat from in the house. You're grinning and Cheri pats you on the back.  
  
  
“Well would ya look at that.” You grimace and then quickly put the smile back on your face. Guzma is not going to ruin your mood. You’ve not seen him since the other night, since the altercation in the bathroom. But you’re not going to let him know that it bothers you. You rotate to face him as he walks out into the yard, that same cheeky ass grin he always has plastered on his face. “Came down to see what all the hollerin’ was about. Looks like this shit actually works.”  
  
  
“Of course it works. They just needed a little push.”  
  
  
“You make it sound like I don’t encourage ‘em any.” You shrug and bite back the words you want to say. You aren't starting a fight with this asshole today. “And here I thought you weren't nothin’ but a pretty face.” You do frown uncomfortably at his words, the other night with his hand around your throat coming to mind, and you can feel your face burning hot but he just continues. “You just keep it up.” He gives you a hard enough pat on the back to shove you forward, turns, and leaves, you're sure back to the house and his nasty room.  
  
  
Cheri exhales quickly and you glance at her. “Does he make you that nervous?”  
  
  
“I mean shit yea. He could beat anyone of us down.” She says seriously. You turn back to him and watch him disappear through the door, absently rubbing your wrapped wrist. You silently wonder what he did to get his pokemon so strong. You've not seen him battle once since you've been here, not to mention heard of him yourself until Malie Gardens. Cheri bumps your arm. “Let's keep watching them.”  
  
  
“Yea,” you reply and turn back around and continue on into the yard.  
  


The day continues on mildly uneventful. With Marshall’s new pokemon, it's like everyone has been kicked into overdrive. You scold them lightly, informing them that wearing their pokemon down will negate any sort of progress through the day, and by the time the sun starts going down, everyone is pretty much winding down. The groups have been dispersing for hours but the last of them are finally going their separate ways. “You comin’ inside?” Cheri asks and you shake your head.  
  
  
“No, I think I want to chill out here for a little while.” She stands and pats herself down.  
  
  
“See ya later then, I’ll save you some dinner.”  
  
  
The sky isn’t very clear but it’s still warm for an evening and the rain is thankfully nonexistent today. It’s just a nice evening. It’s the type of night that you would have let all of your pokemon out of their balls and done something fun. You all went swimming in the dark once, with the exception of Cina. He stayed on shore and laughed when Baby tossed Silver in the water. Silver wasn’t too happy about it. You can see the stars through some of the clouds as they pass and you can hear Baby’s chittering laughter. It really was a good day. But that chitters continue. You sit up and glance around but there’s no one else out here on the lawn. Pushing yourself onto your feet takes you a minute but the more you listen, the more you can hear murmuring from near the pool. Unfortunately, you are far too short to look over the bushes.  
  
  
Going into the mansion, there are a few grunts downstairs, munching on the dinner that some of them made. It smells good and you know yours is probably upstairs getting cold. No one notices you slip back outside from the pool door and back into the darkness. On the far end of the pool you do see a pokemon, a large Golisopod and subsequently you see Guzma sitting next to it. There’s a moment of disappointment in your heart.  
  
  
It doesn’t bother you to see all these kids and their pokemon. At least you didn’t think so, you try not to think so, but now you’re beginning to second guess yourself. Its disheartening and you feel angry. The worst part is how fucking chill they seem. He causes all of these fucking problems, but he still thinks that it’s completely okay to just act like there’s nothing wrong. The Golisopod plucks Guzma’s glasses off his face and put them on top of its head and although this is a cute gesture by the pokemon, you're still pissed. You want your Golisopod back. You want your Gengar back. You walk up behind them and you can see the remains of their dinner between them. And words come out of your mouth before you can even process them. “So did you steal this pokemon too?” He turns to face you.  
  
  
“Oh hey. Ya come to join us this evenin’?”  
  
  
“No.”  
  
  
“Didn’ think so. And nah I didn't steal ‘im. I've had Podsy for ages.” Your mouth quirks at the nickname. “He's the best.” He looks at his golisopod and it nods and chirps in confirmation.  
  
  
“Call me surprised, you can actually catch them yourself.” He snorts and you sneer at him. You are genuinely surprised he didn’t steal some of his own pokemon, you'd expect someone who steals pokemon all the damn to use them against people as well. But you're also caught off guard by the amount of jealousy you feel creeping up and you just really want your damn pokemon back.  
  
  
“You gonna keep standin’ there glarin’ at me or are you gonna sit down?” He's not looking at you, but his golisopod turns it's head to you. You blink at it, its eyes with crosses that took you awhile to get used to with your own. You decide that it is much better company and go to its other side. Guzma throws his head back and laughs. “Ain’t even gonna sit next to me huh?”  
  
  
“No. Especially since…” The other night, you start to say. “This Golisopod seems infinitely better than you.”  
  
  
He snorts. “At least ya ain't afraid of ‘im. Most of the grunts won't even come near ‘im.” You realize he ignored what you said. Or began saying. You look away and don’t mention it.  
  
  
“There's not a reason to be afraid of him. Golisopods aren't aggressive. If he was like a Beedrill or something, then I suppose you might have been the better option, but it’s a slim chance.”  
  
  
“A beedrill?”  
  
  
“Oh yea, you all don't have them here on the islands.” You start to reach for your pokedex and then remember it's not there. You put your arms back down in your lap. “They have like three huge venomous stingers and can be aggressive enough to attack in a swarm. They can be terrifying. Where I used to live had a lot of them in the forest.”  
  
  
“Not gonna lie, princess, place sounds pretty hardcore.”  
  
  
“Not anymore than here. You all have those bewears. Those things are scary enough. You would've liked Viridian, probably. The forest was basically just bugs.” There's a silence for a minute and you hate how casually you're talking to him. Even so far as telling him that'd he'd like home. Fuck, why are you like this with people. You're too damn nice for your own good and now you're just fraternizing with this man who fucking kidnapped you and your pokemon like it's no big deal, has been violent with you on multiple occasions. Your hands clench into angry fists in your lap. It's not like the grunts. You don't mind being friendly with them. They're here because they think they have nowhere else to go, an opinion you’re trying to change. But this asshole made this whole thing. Made this whole organization. And you're just going to fucking chat about the weather. You're so mad at yourself, you don't catch that he's speaking.  
  
  
“What?” You lean to look past the golisopod.  
  
  
“I said have ya eat yet?”  
  
  
“I-uh no. Cheri said she'd save me some.” He gives you a confused look.  
  
  
“Cheri? That the grunt you always hangin’ out with?” He laughs. “Are you just goin’ around namin’ the grunts?”  
  
  
“No, that's her name. They're telling me their actual names.” He keeps laughing and you look away. “Better than just calling them all grunt,” you mutter.  
  
  
“There ain’t nothin’ wrong with calling them what they are.”  
  
  
“Except for they're real people. Grunts make them sound like property. For you to throw around the term ‘family’, you sure don't treat them like it.”  
  
  
This time he leans in front of golisopod. “I treat ‘em plenty like family. I feed ‘em, I house ‘em, I give ‘em somethin’ to do with their lives, I hired ‘em a damn trainer. Sounds like family to me.”  
  
  
“Correction, you tell them it's okay to steal. Second correction, you're holding a trainer hostage for them.”  
  
  
“Ya ain't no hostage, yer free to go whenever ya want.”  
  
  
“Not if I want my pokemon. But look, that's not the point. Point is, you can't use the term family and not treat them with respect. Every time I mention you, it's like they get immediately uncomfortable. Like they're scared of you. Family shouldn't scared of each other. And they sure as hell shouldn't refer to each other as ‘grunt’.” He's quiet for a minute and you consider if you really made him think. You don't care what he does, but you've started to care about the others at least enough to want them to have a good life.  
  
  
You glance at the golisopod and it seems to have dozed so you instead look up at the sky. The clouds are still overcast but there are breaks in them. Enough so that you can tons of stars and sometimes even the moon. It's the same moon as back home, but you don't recognize any of the stars or constellations here. You hadn't bothered to learn any. It makes you feel lonely and a little homesick.  
  
  
The silence grows increasingly uncomfortable and you manage to make yourself look towards Guzma. He seems… contemplative and you wonder if you said something important enough to be contemplative over. It seems unlike him, but this whole thing just seems surreal. Like a messed up dream. Probably a nightmare. But in the moonlight, his hair seems almost luminescent, much wilder without the glasses keeping the hair out of his face, and you can see how tired he looks when he's not being a smug shit. Even sitting down and slouching over, he's still larger than you and his shoulders are wide enough that possibly two of yourself could span them. His jaw is clenched, his brows are furrowed, and he seems tense, but his entire presence is exhausted. And for the first time since you came here, you start to think about what really happened to him to make him this way.  
  
  
Guzma catches you looking and gives you that smug-ass grin. “See somethin’ you like?”  
  
  
You roll your eyes. “No.” That smile falters and then another returns, carrying a little less of a haughty attitude.  
  
  
“I swear ya fit in here. Ya got more sass than most of my boys. Ya sure ya don't wanna join?” You look at the sky for a moment in mock-consideration.  
  
  
“Yea I'm going to say no. I would rather not be part of a criminalized group who cut off slowpoke tails and steals pokemon from small children.” His smile fades completely and when you look at him, you frown.  
  
  
“The hell you hear we cut off slowpoke tails? We don't do none of that shit,” He says in a serious tone and you're speechless.  
  
  
“Uh, I don't remember but it's something people have been saying I guess.” He shakes his head and scoffs at you. “It’s a common occurrence with criminals.”  
  
  
“One bad thing happens and it's all Team Skulls fault. Pffsh.”  
  
  
“What do you do with the Pokémon you steal?” You ask quietly.  
  
  
“Sell ‘em.”  
  
  
“To who?” You look over and you catch him looking at you this time.  
  
  
“No one on the islands. Tourists. Collectors. They sell pretty good. ‘specially the ones you can't find nowhere else.” You look away and nod. You're not surprised. You suppose for a market, that this makes sense. The variants that are here are probably worth a fortune in other regions. You'd never seen a Persian like the ones here before. It makes you uncomfortable that you're able to understand it and you suddenly have a sense of discomfort from this entire situation. You stand and wipe your pants off. The golisopod chirrups awake.  
  
  
“I'm going to bed,” you state plainly. Guzma examines you quietly as you straighten your clothes.  
  
  
“If ya can't handle the answers, don't be askin’ questions.”  
  
  
“Not why I'm leaving but thanks. I think I can take care of myself.” You take a last look at the golisopod and head back inside without another word from Guzma. Cheri is likely upstairs with you some food and your stomach growls at the concept. You didn't realize how hungry you were. Some of the grunts are starting to settle and some seem to be leaving for the night. They do that sometimes, leave in the middle of the night to terrorize someone, you're sure. You’re sure.  
  
  
You lay in bed when it gets dark enough, thinking you might sleep. But the more you think about it, the more it bothers you that he didn’t even know their names. The more it bothers you that he hadn’t cared to ask. He isn’t worthy of people this loyal. He isn’t worthy of any of these kids, or adults, or any of them. Despite what Plumeria says, you’re surprised that he isn’t violent with the rest of them too. Cheri said that he picked fights when he was drunk and you did hear him argue with some of the boys. But why are you the one that he got violent with. Why you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I only ever mention four pokemon that she has. So she has a Gengar named Hauntly, Incineroar named Cina, Lycanroc named Silver, and a Golisopod named Baby. Maybe she just didn't catch more than three when she came to Alola. Who knowssss.


	6. I Made a Fist and Not a Plan

People have always naturally liked you. Part of that is because, as you’ve said before, you are just naturally nice to people. Even though you are thoroughly sarcastic, it’s just always been that way. It’s something that you gained from your father, always a kind man. The time with Team Rocket were horrendous, and even through that he was always kind to people and lawyers and those who would accuse him of actively helping Team Rocket.  
  
  
But as such, within the weeks that you’ve been here, you’ve made many friends. You consider them friends. You aren’t sure what they consider you to be. To some, you’re sure that they think of you as a big sister, the youngest ones maybe closer to a mom. Some probably think you’re a bitch for bossing them sometimes. You never had siblings, just you and the pokemon trainers on their way to the Indigo League.  
  
  
Your life in this ‘manor’ has a pattern now. Wake up after noon, eat some junk food, go out and see what everyone is doing, eat lunch which is more junk food, do a chore cause you have to do something different everyday, eat MORE junk food, party sometimes, and then sleep. You do your best to avoid Guzma, it’s been about a month since Plumeria had come home and subsequently since he’s last drank. But you still go out of your way to not have to look at him. Multiple thoughts hang in your head about the situation: you don’t want to look at that smug face, you don’t want to see him interact with his pokemon, and you sure as hell don’t want to end up backed into some corner with him again.  
  
  
You’ve managed to learn a lot in the two months and some that you’ve been here but there are still some things that you just don’t know how to do or shit keeps getting moved around. There are a few that generally stay somewhere near you in case you need help. But there are also some that you know would be fucking horrible to you if you were to ask. You completely avoid these people at all costs.  
  
  
Ever since you’d shown up, there has been a select few who have done nothing but taunt you and you have done very good to ignore them. But with your emotional state slowly descending in a spiral of depressive anger and emotional hell, you’ve reached a point that you just really want to fight them. If it weren’t for the fact that whoever you’re with does a decent job of staying between you and them, you know you’d launch yourself at them swinging.  
  
  
Most of them are boys that you guess are just mad that you managed to fuck them up in the pokemon center when you first got here. The girls you’ve mostly managed to make cool with, either just building up some mutual respect or actually making friends. But you suppose these boys just feel like you’ve taken their ‘manliness’ and crushed it. Which you’re completely fine with. Three in particular are just shit stains that you really wish would choke on air. Jace, some tall jerk with green in his hair. You remember him particularly well as the asshole who outed you to everyone as being in the pokemon center. Hale, which was not his real name you've guessed, is the very tall and very wide jerkass who so nicely escorted you to your first run in with Guzma while in the house. He makes it a point to block your way to anything that you need if you’re in the same room, probably because you’re short and you know that he thinks he’s so fucking funny. And the worst is Jeriah. You didn’t really interact with him until a while after you’d been here. He, so politely, reminded you that you bit him and made him bleed (and left scars on his hand) when he tried to grab you in the pokemon center. He hasn’t confirmed it, but you’re positive he’s also the one who broke your wrist.  
  
  
Cheri and Lea had caught on to how tense the air is whenever you and them were in the room and Lea just about picks you up to usher you on to a different room, even now. Even if just one of them were around, just seeing them look at you was enough to get your blood boiling. If you saw that they were in a room that you were going into, you didn’t go in, you just turned yourself around and went a different direction before they managed to see you. If they came into a room and you were able to leave, you did so as quickly as possible.  
  
  
It’s different now though. Ever since that night in the bathroom, you haven’t felt safe if your friends weren’t around. You aren’t afraid, you can take care of yourself, but you don’t even have anything to defend yourself at this point. All you have is your close group who can keep others away from you. But you aren’t with them all the time. You try to stay in your room when they aren’t with you, you stay away from anywhere that isn’t an open space, anywhere that there aren’t a lot of people.  
  
  
You were frustrated a lot with the situation and Plumeria was someone that you could confide in. She allowed you to sit in her room with her and let you bitch about Guzma, about not having your pokemon, about dealing with people, about living like this. She would try to interpret to you Guzma’s actions because some of the shit he does or says is total bullshit. Shit like he didn’t think putting up with you was worth the trouble. Plumeria said that he was just mad that he wasn’t able to inspire them like you were. Or that he thought that your methods were stupid, that you didn’t know what it was like, and other shit. And Plumeria would just defend him saying that he was just saying it because it didn’t work for him and he was just upset. You were very thankful that she let you complain to her. It helped. But the fact she so often defended him when he was upset made you angry. And he was upset a lot.  
  
  
But there were other good things about her. She helped you with the training, offering up her pokemon to help you with demonstrations, to battle with the kids. She even convinced you that it might be good for the kids to see her and Guzma battle, an event that literally no one missed. You agreed on the premise that maybe if he joined, they’d see that he wasn’t such a hot shot. But in the end, he won. It was a good battle you guess, both down to their last pokemon, her salazzle and his golisopod, both trying desperately not to falter in front of the grunts. But even with all these friends, with all this excitement happening, you resented it.  
  
  
You weren’t watching like the rest of them, you were looking away down the road at the wall. And you were thinking about your own fight with Plumeria, beating her with your own golisopod. You were thinking about home, your pokemon, about Viridian. You never thought you would miss Viridian so bad. Life was so much simpler there. What you wouldn't give to be sitting under the trees outside the forest, listening to the gentle buzzing of the bugs and Hauntly back when he was a haunter watching over you.  
  
  
There was shouting from behind you and when you turn around, everyone is clapping and screaming for Guzma. Plumeria is already calling Salazzle back to its ball and she shrugs with a smile on her face.  
  
  
You were prepared to ask the group as to why it ended like that when they should have been equally matched, but you were distracted. Are distracted. Still distracted. With all of them, out here, cheering and carrying on. You feel like, you don’t belong here. And that wall is trapping you, growing smaller and smaller and smaller. This isn’t the first time with this thought. But it’s the first time that you felt it this strongly, surrounded by people that you don’t belong with, listening for them cheer for someone who doesn’t deserve it. Doesn’t deserve them.  
  
  
Cheri runs up to and shakes your good arm. She’s happy and grinning and cheering. It feels like you're hardly there. Like you're ten miles away. You offer her a weak smile and look back at the wall. “Hey,” you jump and look back at her. “Moon, you alright?”  
  
  
“I, yeah sorry,” You smile widely at her, trying not to seem too fake. “So, I see he won.”  
  
  
“Yea! Sis almost got him! But Podsy beat her! It was so cool!” He doesn’t deserve her. You look up at Guzma and watch as they crowd him and Plumeria, asking questions, giving congratulations. He looks up at you, that cocky, stupid grin on his face. But you just stare at him, hoping he can see how much you hate him in your eyes. That he doesn’t deserve them. You’re uncertain if he gets it, but he seems weirded out enough and he looks away from you quickly, going back to his ‘fans’. It’s all you can do to keep a smile for Cheri until you go inside.  
  
  
Most of them are still outside, fired up after their bosses’ battle, wanting to get their pokemon that strong, finally feeling like they might be good enough. So yes, this experiment worked, it encouraged them. But also backfired because what did he do but stand there and take it all in, all their praise and laughter with that shit-eating grin on his face. At least Plumeria would have encouraged them if she’d won, maybe rubbed it in Guzma’s face, but ultimately would have been good about it. But all he did was take it. You think in the beginning, you would have handled it. You didn’t know them, the kids, the grunts, their pokemon. In the beginning, if he treated them like shit, you would have just shrugged it off. But these are yours now. You have cared for them, and taught them and raised them for nearly two months. You’re sure if you left, you could convince half of them to leave with you.  
  
  
You sit on the balcony walkway on the lower roof. The sun is peeking out from the clouds, a decent day, the kind of day you’d be spending in the ocean, or training out where it’s cooler. And what are you here doing? Sitting on a shitty wood covered roof in the shitty headquarters of a shitty organization. But you’d learned you could keep a good eye on the kids here, a perfect view of the yard and on a good day you could see all the way down the street. They’re laughing, shouting with their pokemon, even Cheri is out there with her ratata. Which would explain why you jumped when someone flopped down beside you.  
  
  
“Shit, I didn’t mean to sneak up on ya,” and there’s that stupid chuckle. You roll your eyes and turn to look at Guzma and there it is, his smarmy smile. “Ya didn’t seem to happy about me winning.”  
  
  
“Can you blame me for wanting Plums to win? You know how much I love to see your ass kicked.”  
  
  
“Ha. Ha. Can’t even be nice cause I won, can you?”  
  
  
“Oh I can be nice when I want to be. Look at them, I’m nice to them all the time. And they’ve worked so hard, they deserve it.”  
  
  
“That’s the truth though. I ain’t never seen those kids work so hard at somethin’. You’re doin’ real good with them.” He sounds sincere enough.  
  
  
“I know I am.”  
  
  
“Haughty there huh?” But you scoff at him, laugh. It feels like a switch in your head and you're suddenly mad enough you're shaking.  
  
  
“You know what? So what if I am? You think you’re the only one who can be full of themself? At least I deserve it.”  
  
  
“Woah woah woah, where’s that comin’ from, princess?”  
  
  
“Shit, all that praise they gave you, give you, you think you deserve that? You think that having those children fear you has you earning that praise?” You move away from him, standing up and stumbling towards the open window.  
  
  
“Woah, shit be careful,” he shoves himself up. “Look I’ve been working on that.”  
  
  
“But look at all the shit you’ve done! Look at them! Are you aware that you have literal children? Do you even know their names?”  
  
  
“Would you calm down? What the fuck is wrong with you?!”  
  
  
“Nothing is wrong with me! I’m just finally fucking tired of your bullshit! I’m tired of this! I want my pokemon and I want to go home!”  
  
  
“Hey woa-”  
  
  
“Do you know what it’s like to watch people love their pokemon and feel like you abandoned yours? Do you know what it’s like to watch someone who doesn’t deserve all of this?” You turn around before you launch yourself at his head and you catch a look at your still wrapped hand. “I have needed to go to a hospital for Arceus sake! Because of you and that little gang of assholes! And I have stayed here! To look after these kids who need help! Who fucking want help! Not some mentor that they’re fucking afraid of! Who doesn’t know them! Doesn’t even know where they’re from! Just to get back my fucking family!” You feel like there are beedrill in your hands, in your chest. You’re shaking, when you turn around. “And I have nothing to show for it besides gaining ten pounds of junk food fat and a goddamn broken wrist! So Fuck You, Guzma!” You shove him with your good hand. “Fuck you and fuck this place!” He deflects your hand a second time.  
  
  
“Moon, calm down! Holy shit, be careful!” You run at him and shove him again. And then it’s almost like you have an out of body experience, like everything slows down. You hear a crack, wooden and loud. You see his face go from anger and annoyance and change slowly into shock, eyes wide. And then it’s like you’re looking at the balcony, watching yourself, and you’re falling from the second story. You can hear screaming from below you and maybe above you. But the moment your feet lose contact with the balcony, time seems to catch up. You’re in your own head, you feel him smack at your fingers, and then you close your eyes and feel nothing.

 

“Shit fucking move!” It’s really dark.  
“Moon! Moon!” Hey that’s you. You’re Moon.  
“Did he push her?” It feels like you’re swimming. Maybe.  
“Give her some fucking space!” You’re just tired. So tired.  
“Get her inside! Move you shits!” You’re moving. That’s too much. It feels wrong. You want to throw up.  
You want to go to sleep. The voices fade. You’re underwater again. It’s calm, so calm.

“You were the only one with her! What the hell happened?”  
“Plums I don’t- fuckin shit I don't know! She just started, she starts screaming at me!”  
“Holy fuck, Guzma, so you fucking push her?”  
“No! No! I didn't! She was the one pushin’ me!”  
“Oh my god. If she wakes up-”  
“When she wakes up, Plums she has to wake up.”  
“That story better match up. The fuck are we gonna do if she dies, huh? What then?”  
“Plums, please don't talk like that. She can't be dead! Arceus, I can't fucking kill someone! Plums! Plumeria, wait! Shit! Shit!”

 

Viridian Forest has always been a playground for you. The promise was just to stay on the city’s side of the forest, close to the house. The grass was so green and, even though it would prickle through your clothes, it was soft to lay in. The trees were always full of life, many of the bugs knew you. Caterpie and weedle would come to you because you'd carry treats. Even a Pidgeotto came a few times, they made you happy. Sometimes you and your dad’s growlithe would lay for hours in the grass, up on the hill.  
  
  
Babygirl… he’d yell from the house when he came home. And you'd be excited every time. You and growlithe would run down the hill, happy to see him home from a trip. Babygirl… and you'd run straight in the house, run to his office, and then-

 

You gasp, eyes wide, heart thundering in your chest and you find yourself most certainly not in your dad's arms. You feel your eyes water and go to lift up your hand and it's… covered in more bandages. The upper part is covered in bruises and when you lift your other arm, it is also covered in scratches and blue marks. Fuck, your ears ring and your head is pounding. You glance around and faintly recognize Plumeria’s room, pink and cleaner than any room in the house. You want to lift up your head but even the thought of it is horrible enough to make you want to puke. Everything seems so loud, too loud. It’s like you can hear the lights as well as you see them, the yellow giving off some vibration in your head. You can hear the generators downstairs, can hear people talking in the kitchen below. It’s almost unbearable even when you shut your eyes, you can hear everything, and if you cover your ears your blood is pounding so loudly through your veins that you can’t concentrate.  
  
  
You hear someone coming long before they’re outside the door, your head thudding with each and every step they take up the stairs and down the hall. It opens without any knocking, but you can’t even turn your head to look, instead you just wait to hear them. It’s a regret you immediately have. “You’re awake.” You frown at the sound of Plumeria’s voice, it sounding grated and pitched in your head. She sits and every spring in the bed makes a separate squeal.  
  
  
“Yea. I guess.” She lifts your arm and checks it over before grabbing the other one.  
  
  
“Do you remember what happened?” Done with your arms, she instead moves to open your eyes and look at them. Your head flashes back to your dad’s face.  
  
  
“I fell. Yea?” You remember the roof. And yelling. You were yelling. And the balcony shouldn’t have been slick. No, it wasn’t slick, it broke.  
  
  
“Yea, you did. You're lucky. You landed mostly in a bush.” You wave off her hands, her touching your eyes making your head feel like needles behind them. You go sit up, but she grabs your shoulders and pushes you down again. “Don’t. You have a concussion.”  
  
  
“No shit.” You close your eyes again.  
  
  
“Well, Guz will be glad to know you aren’t dead.” You want to laugh, but only manage a smile and a grunt.  
  
  
“Oh yea, I’m sure he’s real happy.”  
  
  
“He was upset. He wasn’t sure what would happen if we had killed someone.”  
  
  
“Makes sense.” The two of you sit in silence, well mostly silence, for a moment before you hear her moving. Something in her hand is rattling.  
  
  
“Why didn't you tell anyone that you had pills?” Oh just great. They dug through your shit.  
  
  
“I didn't need something else for him to hold over my head.”  
  
  
“Moon. I said if you needed anything to tell me. I would’ve got them for you.”  
  
  
“But you would have told him. I know you tell him everything.” Tears prick at your eyes again but you blink them away.  
  
  
“Coming down from antidepressants ain't somethin’ you should have tried while going through this shit, Moon. This could have been so much worse.” You don't look at her, your eyes struggling to focus out the window.  
  
  
“I really don't want to talk about it.”  
  
  
“Okay. I get it. Get some sleep. I’ll bring you food later.” She stands, putting your pill bottle on the nightstand, pausing. “I didn't tell him about your antidepressants when I looked for ‘em.” You're surprised but don't say anything, rolling towards her when she stops at the door. “I’ll keep everyone out, yea?”  
  
  
“Yea, thanks Plum.”  
  
  
“Hey. He didn’t do anything to you, yea?”  
  
  
You pause. Memory flashes in and out of you screaming. You shoved him and lost your footing. “No.” You shut your eyes again, opting to put a pillow over your face as Plumeria closes the door, flicking the light off as she leaves. The light goes away and the pounding is softened by the pillow cloth. It’s much more peaceful, even if you can still hear and feel people through the house. It’s not hard to fall asleep again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so like, I'm that person who is so weird about the pronunciation of things. Especially names so I guess I'm gonna put a guide here, more for me than anything lmao.
> 
> Cheri- it's more like Sherri.  
> Lea- Lee-uh  
> Jace- Jayse  
> Hale- Hayl  
> Jeriah- Using the 'yuh' sound for the J rather than the 'Juh' sound. So it's Yer-I-uh.
> 
> And I'll post more as I go along I guess.


	7. Youth Without Youth

You hardly leave that bed for the next three days. With what is apparently a beautifully twisted ankle and your continuing headache from hell, either Plumeria or Cheri has to help you do pretty much anything. You refuse most people wanting to see you. For multiple reasons. Sometimes because you know that they’re likely too loud to be around right now. Some because you’ve started your medication again and you tend to be all over the place emotionally. Mostly though, you know that they heard you. Heard the things you said about them and their pokemon and even Guzma. You absolutely hate it.  
  
  
But eventually, your ankle is walkable and slowly your headache fades away. You’re staying back in your room with Cheri and the girls, they check on you a lot, even though you’re doing things on your own. None of them ask about what happened, none of them seem to know about the pills. No one asks about what you said. It’s a comfort really, that your health is more important to them than the shit that you said when you were upset. And nobody says anything about Guzma.  
  
  
You don’t hear anything from him or about him either, beyond the fact that he is either staying in his room or he’s already left the house since you’ve been awake. You aren’t entirely certain how you feel. In a way you want to storm in there, guns blazing, and demand that he give you your pokemon so you can finally go home. And another much smaller part of yourself wants you to apologize for what you said to him. Laying in bed with nothing but your thoughts and sleep, well, it made you focus a little differently. All of these kids have a reason they’re here. Whether its parents or anger or abuse or anything. And he takes them in, gives them a home. Why these kids specifically? There are very few who are malicious just to be mean. That has to mean something. So what happened to him to make him take them in? You’d had the thought before, yea. But you were so upset and depressed and angry at him that you didn’t go beyond that initial question.  
  


It’s dark when you wake up. Outside, the rain is falling gently, a quiet but steady pattering against the air conditioner in the window. You close your eyes again, trying to go back to sleep to the noise, but you can’t succeed. Huffing, you stand swing your legs over the side of the bed and stand up, slipping on your pajama pants. One of the boys made you a crutch the other day and you pick it up placing it under your arm. If you’re going to be stuck awake, you might as well get yourself a snack. Stairs are much easier to go down than they are up, you can go two feet to a step, a slow tactic but an easy one. As you go into the downstairs hall, you see a light on in the kitchen. It’s not really something that you expect at this time of night, normally they’re all passed out by now, alcohol doing them in or just simple sleep in general. But you suppose that someone might also be having a difficult time sleeping as well.  
  
  
You swing the door open, immediately hearing something fall to the floor and a gasp. “Holy fucking shit!” Guzma shouts as his plate clatters, some microwave burrito tumbling onto the floor. He grabs it, hot potatoing it in his hands, and throwing it back onto a paper towel on the counter. Swinging around, he stares wide-eyed at you, tank top with a little burrito grease and sweatpants sluggishly down his hips. He nearly immediately calms down. “Oh. It’s. I didn’t hear you.”  
  
  
“Yea, I realize that. Um. Sorry.” You shuffle past him to the fridge and pull out a pizza. Your goal now to be to eat and get out of here as quickly as possible. He seems to visibly feel uncomfortable and he moves out of your way to go sit at the table. You start your pizza in the microwave and lean over to watch it.  
  
  
“You can sit down, princess. I’m not going to bite.” You probably should, it would be the polite thing to do. You exhale and limp over to the table, sitting across from him. The air is tense enough you could cut it. “So. How is uh-”  
  
  
“Look. I’m sorry for… what I-” You start.  
  
  
“No-”  
  
  
“What I said. I just-”  
  
  
“Hey no look-”  
  
  
“I didn’t, I just-”  
  
  
“Hey it’s okay, I’m the one who should be fuckin’ apologizin-”  
  
  
“I just, I genuinely meant all of it.” He stops and looks at you blankly.  
  
  
“Well uh. Well fuck, okay then.” He shuts up and blinks, taking a bite of his burrito.  
  
  
“Guzma look. I meant it. Because I was angry. And stressed.” You can tell by the way he’s not looking at you, and he's angrily eating his burrito, he’s frustrated. “Guzma. Look at me.” He does, mouth full and brows furrowed. “Ugh, okay. Why are you like this?”  
  
  
He drops the burrito on the plate, holding his hands up in frustration. “Why am I like what?”  
  
  
“Guzma, why’d you take them in?” His eyes shift to the plate, expression softening.  
  
  
“The grun- hmm the kids?”  
  
  
“Yea. What thoughts does a twenty-some year old have to take in almost a hundred kids?” He’s quiet, fingers tapping on the table as he stares down at his plate. Your pizza goes off and you leave it. “Because you sit there and refer to them as family, refer to them as your ‘boys’, your ‘girls’, and then turn around and you don’t know anything about th-”  
  
  
“For fuck’s sake! Are you a damn broken record? I do know about them, okay? Is that what you want? I know more about them than some little girl from some fancy ass league town could. Cause I’ve lived their lives. Lived with shitty parents, and shitty people and shitty circumstances! Got my ass beat by my pa every damn day! And mom didn’t do shit!” You stare at him. “You see, here’s the thing, princess. All of this shit goes down all over these islands, all over the mainlands, and ya know, some get lucky. They go off, get to be successful trainers, they get to leave their parents behind, leave all their shit. And then there’s us. We don’t get lucky, ain’t any good at battling long term, ain’t smart enough to pass them fancy tests or study science. And I’m the only fucking one willing to do anything about it. So here we are. I take all of these kids in, princess, because they don’t have anywhere to go. Ya don’t think it’s funny that none of their parents don’t come after them? They don’t care. Nobody really cares!” He stands up and crosses over to the microwave, popping your pizza on a plate and dropping it in front of you, slumping back into his seat.  
  
  
“Guzma, I’m not going to say sorry. Because what you have might be good intentions. But look at what you’ve done. Yes, you’ve given them a home, but you’ve taught them some horrible shit.”  
  
  
“Well ain’t nobody was goin’ to help us. It’s all I can do to get that officer Nanu to not give us shit.” You sigh, picking at your pizza.  
  
  
“I’m going to train them. And then I’m getting them out of here. You’re free to come if you want, but that’s what I’m doing. And then I want my pokemon back.” He finishes his burrito and looks at you, bites his lips, nods, and stands up.  
  
  
“Fine.” He leaves his plate at the table.  
  
  
“Guzma, you don’t have to be like that. You’re going to burn yourself out if you think of yourself as the hero all the time.” He pauses, but walks on through the door. You finish your pizza, throw your plate in the sink, and make your way back up to your room.

A few day later in the afternoon, you’re back outside, training them the best you can with limited mobility and a now certainly messed up wrist. After your conversation last night, you’re determined. This is no longer about only your pokemon, you’re going to save these kids from this. You’re going to get them out of here, get them jobs, get them a better life. You can’t count the amount of pokemon they’ve evolved at this point, the kids have done so good on their own. There are a select few that you’ve already spoken with, about leaving when you do. Cheri, Marshall, Ian, a couple of others, they’re willing to give it a try. They want help.  
  
  
Every so often, you catch some of them looking up at the house, and when you look you see Guzma watching again. Like the day you fell. But now, he seems contemplative, an odd expression on his face that you’re not sure you’ve noticed before. You turn back and don’t look at him again. This is about them. Not about him. You’ll give him some credit, now that you know he had well intentions. But the road to hell is paved with them. Something you know first hand. Something you learned from your dad.  
  
  
With the groups really getting the hang of everything, you have mostly just started to hang back, only going to them individually if they have questions or want critique. Some have began battling trainers outside of the walls, coming home with things they’ve bought with their award money. So proud of themselves and so ready to show it to their friends, rewarding their pokemon with expensive treats. They’ve become so kind and you know that they will continue to be so, now that you’ve inspired this in them.  
  
  
You’ve already started thinking of jobs for them. Cheri would be a good nurse for pokemon, if she would study some. She cares a lot, willing to cheer for her pokemon but able to see their limits and not wanting to push them. She’s the first to care for them. And Lea, she said she’s from Hoenn. She would be a great personal trainer for humans and pokemon, have one of those famous fitness gyms. And Ian, Ian would make great pokemon treats. You catch him sometimes, early in the morning when no one is awake, baking in the kitchen. They’re all so talented at what they do and what they’re passionate about. It’s a total waste to see them here, stealing and whatever else.  
  
  
“Moon?” Cheri asks while you’re watching some of them work out with their pokemon. You glance over at her and then back to them. “If Boss gives you your pokemon back, you’ll leave right?” You inhale sharply.  
  
  
“No. I won’t leave until you all are ready. Maybe for a day or two, set up a place for us to stay, set up some part time jobs. But I won’t abandon you all. I’ll get us going somewhere, you’ll see.” She gently grabs your arm.  
  
  
“I hope so. I’d like to live somewhere with less rain,” she laughs and it’s infectious.  
  
  
“I am so tired of this rain.” You complain, covering your face. “I’d never seen so much until I was here. In Po Town, I mean. We’ll live somewhere sunny. And warm. It’ll be nice.” She nods.  
  
  
“And you’ll stay with us?”  
  
  
“The whole time.” The rain is slower today, but it looks like it’s going to get worse soon. The bone in your ankle is starting to act up, you’ve probably been on it too long today. “Cheri, I really think that I should go sit down.”  
  
  
“Ah shit, girl, yea. Come on let’s get you in the house. Might grab some umbrellas while ya girl’s in there.” She helps you hobble into the house, but you ask her to just leave you downstairs. You can watch from the windows as long as the storm doesn’t get too bad. She gets you set up with a chair and something to drink and leaves you where you are.  
  
  
It’s a good feeling. With the door open and the broken windows upstairs, it makes a good breeze through the house. You’ve gotten used to the humid, ocean smell that is always in the house. It has mildewed the carpet in places, and the walls probably aren’t great, but it’s honestly become rather endearing. You hardly notice the smell anymore. Then again, you aren’t certain if you remember what a clean house smells like at all. You tap your water bottle on your propped up knee and close your eyes. You could be sitting in your Incineroar’s lap if he was here, keeping you warm, both of you dozing. And Gengar would help with the dreams you’d been having. You’ll have them back soon. You’ll have them back soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to put a heads up that the next chapter contains non-consensual sexual content. I'll of course add the tag when I post it, but just a little heads up.


	8. Bright Mouths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up for non-con content.

It’s chilly down here. You blink awake, finding that the chair you had been sat in is now the couch against the stairs, a blanket placed over you. It’s incredibly dark outside, the rain drumming down hard against the windows and lightning cascading in streaks. You start to wonder why no one woke you up, but you do faintly remember Cheri trying to get you up enough to go up the stairs. Lea could have carried you, she must be gone somewhere. You sit up, picking the blanket up to smell it before setting it down beside. At least someone used a clean blanket to cover you, Cheri being your best guess. Your crutch isn’t beside you. Actually, you don’t see it at all downstairs. “Oh isn’t that just nice.” You do your best to stand up, grabbing the edge of the couch and steadying yourself.  
  
  
Even standing, you can’t see it in the foyer, so you suppose you’ll just crawl up the steps. It happens sometimes, you leave your crutch upstairs and it’s easier to just crawl up than for Cheri to attempt to carry you. She’s bigger than you for sure, but she isn’t big enough to get you up the stairs, not like Lea. And you wouldn't trust the banister to hold any weight.  
  
  
You don’t know if it’s because of the moldy floors or if its because you probably slept with your mouth open, but you suppose that getting something to drink before you went upstairs might be the best idea. You limp your way into the kitchen, the door swinging open and you’re surprised that it’s cleaner today. Someone must have gotten bored. Even pushing down on the garbage can button reveals that it’s empty. Amazing. You grab yourself a grocery bag and put yourself a soda and some water bottles in it to carry them upstairs. A door out in the hall opens and closes, startling you for a second but when you look at the clock, you realize that some of the grunts must just now be getting home.  
  
  
Looking through the fridge and the freezer, you grab some string cheese and a couple of ham slices, eating those and then putting a few more in a baggy to take upstairs with you. You guess you missed dinner, damn you must have been tired. The rain could have done it, but you also spent the majority of your time outside today, which is something that you haven’t done in a while. It probably took a lot of energy out of you. Tomorrow you’ll make sure to take it easy.  
  
  
You hear more chattering outside and what you think is another door shutting. Looking at the clock again, you surely don’t think people would be waking up at this hour. Well, it wouldn’t be the first time that you had so it’s untelling. They might be.  
  
  
Finishing up your pilfering, you wash your hand and throw away the paper towel. You momentarily think about grabbing the broom to at least have something to help you up the stairs, but you leave it and turn the light off as you step into the hallway. You’re looking at your feet, making sure that there isn’t anything for you to trip over, that you miss the fact that there’s someone in front of you. It makes you jump, even though you knew that there were people running around, you didn’t exactly expect them to be right here up in your space.  
  
  
“Oh shit!” You reflexively place your hand against your chest. “Sorry, you just-” You freeze. Their hand is wrapping around your arm and you look up to a taller boy with green streaks in his hair. “No!” You're grabbed from behind, being put in a headlock and your mouth and chin are covered. Jace grabs your legs as you kick them forward. You make impact several times, tears stinging your eyes as your twisted ankle makes contact with his chest, but he eventually has them both tucked under his arm. You're carried into the back room, struggling as much as you possibly can before you're dropped unceremoniously onto the floor, out of breath with Jace and Hale towering above. Quickly scooting away reflexively, your back meets with something solid, another set of hands wrapping around you. One hand on your mouth and the other around your neck, constricting your airway.  
  
  
“Don’t scream.” Shutting your eyes as tight as you can, you pray this is a dream. The hand on your mouth leaves, pushing up into your hair and moving your head back. You can smell alcohol as he breathes next to your face. You don't have to open your eyes to know who it is, grabbing Jeriah by the arm around your neck. He shoves you forwards, pain coursing through your wrist and neck, coughing and gasping for breath. “Haven’t you been told that _princesses_ shouldn't walk around alone? That's what Boss calls you right?” You hear fingers snapping and then your upper arm is tugged on until you're upright again, facing him this time. His eyes are dark, nearly black, sharp even with the drunkenness.  
  
  
“And haven't you heard,” you ground out. “That you shouldn't pick on people smaller than you?” His hand lashes out, gripping your throat tighter and pulling you towards him. You try to grab his arm again, but only manage one hand, the other he traps with his. You open your mouth to scream as he squeezes your broken wrist, you can't with him blocking your throat.  
  
  
“Now where would the fun in that be?” There are footsteps behind you and both your wrists are grabbed and yanked behind you, firmly held in place. “Now then _princess_ , we’re going to play a game. Not so much a game for you, but I'd like to think of it as a game for us. A little starlet told me that you turned down our big ol’ boss for a good time.” Fuck, no. No no no. No one knew. You're dreaming. It's been weeks. No one knew. You shut your eyes to block him out. Until the absolute shit gets smacked out of you. You gasp while you're able to suck in air, your face burning hot where he hit you, before he takes your throat again. “Ooo, I recommend you look at whoever is talking to you. Now then. Do you know how many of the girls in this house would have absolutely jumped that dick? Do you? Of course you don't.” He finally releases your throat so you can breathe normally again, instead running his hands across your tear-wet cheeks. You catch a glimpse of the scars on his hand from your teeth.  
  
  
“But boss isn't interested in any of them. But you. He seems to have a big interest in you. So much so he's goin’ soft. He hasn't sent us out to wreck shit in weeks. Hasn't let us do much of anything.” That's not true. It's just because of the training. He wants them to train, he wants them to get out. “So here's the game me and the boys are gonna play. We're gonna see which one of us can mess you up the most.” He crawls his fingers around your throat again, face coming within inches of your face. “We're gonna see which one of us can just make an absolute slut out of you. And then, we’ll present you to him. All sweet and sloppy and beginning for it. So maybe, once boss is able to get off a couple of times, we’ll go back to normal.”  
  
  
He presses his face against yours, mouth right by your ear. “You never know what all a man will do to get a woman until he finds one he _really_ wants his dick in.” He licks at your ear and pulls back. You spit in his face.  
  
  
His hand flies at you again, backhanding you before he shoves you over by your throat. You cough so hard you nearly gag, pointing your face at the floor. A foot is placed on your stomach, turning you over to look at the ceiling and Jeriah and Hale come into view. Hale’s foot shoves you again, onto your stomach where one of them kneels down, straddling your hips and pulling your good arm at a painful angle behind your back, another hand creeping up the back of your shirt. You tightly shut your eyes as you feel hot breath against your face again. “I really like it when they play hard to get. But boss might not like it if we break you even more,” Jeriah taunts.  
  
  
“Screw you.” He licks the tears off your cheek.  
  
  
“Oh? Well I guess that's an invitation.” You can feel him grin against your face before standing, the weight of him thankfully off your back. “Hale, you can go first, big guy. I think I wanna watch.”  
  
  
You’re afraid. You're terrified. You're injured, out of breath, held down, there's nothing you can do, and you're afraid. Your breathing picks up as you feel another body lower onto you, very likely Hale following Jeriah’s orders, you want to cry.  
  
  
Hands move down your back, exploring up your shirt, rubbing beneath your bra. You don't move. The less you move, the less it'll hurt, the less they'll expect anything out of you. A hand presses on your back, holding you into the floor. The other is abruptly on your ass, squeezing and rubbing you through your shorts. You just squeeze your eyes shut and grit your teeth.  
  
  
“Mm you know what. That isn't a very good angle.” Hale stops what he’s doing as Jeriah speaks, moving himself off of you. Grabbing you by the back of the shirt, he lifts you off the ground, placing you to be sitting with your legs folded on either side of you. Jeriah seats himself back on the couch as Hale takes up the space against your back, pulling your arms behind you and wrapping them folded together with what feels like cloth. “Oh this is better.” Jeriah holds your chin, fingers running around your neck and down your sternum.  
  
  
With Hale holding your arms, you can't shake him off, you can't even move. Jeriah’s hand continues down slowly, trailing over your collarbones, the dip in your neck, and then he makes his way to your breast. “You know, I was always attracted to girls with bigger tits. But any set will do, really.” He grabs the right one, easily cupped in his hand, and he squeezes roughly. You yelp in pain as he twists his hand, pinching to find the nipple beneath your bra. Tears come to your eyes again and you look at the ceiling to look at anything but him.  
  
  
“Here, what if we do this?” Hale speaks from behind you. He lets go of your arms, still immovable from being tied together, and he grabs at the hem of your shirt, pulling it up over your head and leaving your arms trapped in the tank straps.  
  
  
“Oh good.” Jeriah’s hands return, diving beneath the cups of your bra and holding them each bare in his hands. His thumbs run over your nipples, rubbing them until they're standing firm and then pulling your breasts to rest on top of your bra. A hand circles around the back of your neck, pulling forward until you're forced to look at him again. He smacks your breast hard. You gasp, trying to look back to the ceiling but he holds you firmly in place. “That's a good look on you.” Your nipple is pinched painfully again and you can't help but sob. You're pressed further against Hale as Jeriah makes his way into the floor in front of you, hand around your throat again so you have to look at him. “If you keep making noises like that, Hale might not even get a chance at you.” Large hands pull your hips back, pressing against Hale’s body and you can feel his erection against your lower back, free and hard, and you try not to think about the wetness you feel there. Your breath quickens as you start to panic.  
  
  
Jeriah’s hand that isn't keeping you still explores your skin. You can feel yourself shaking, the feel of him gently tracing lines down your body making you convulse. You don't want this. It's just a dream, it's just a dream. His hand stops at the waistband of your shorts, a finger pulling just below at your underwear. “Jeriah don't, don't. Please don't. I won't say anything. Jeriah please,” you babble at him, you can't control the words out of your mouth, eyes closed and sobbing. The hand around your neck squeezes slightly and you stop.  
  
  
“Oh my. I didn't know your mouth could beg like that.” His face leans into yours, kissing at your eyes and cheeks. “I'm gonna remember that for a long time.” His hand starts below your waist band and you tense up. You don't want this. You sob as he cups your heat in his hand. You’d never cared about the whole virginity being important thing, but this isn't how you wanted this to go. You don't want this.  
  
  
“Oh you're already wet,” he purrs against your ear. “That must mean you like this huh?” No. No no no. A finger dips between your lips and you bite the inside of your mouth to hold in any sound you might make. The finger runs up and down, mapping out your body and coming to rest on your clit. It runs in lazy circles as you shake against them, trying not to think about how it feels. “You're so sensitive here. What about inside, hm?”  
  
  
“Jeriah, please don't.” You're crying, tears beginning to stream down your face and his hand moves again. His fingers circle your entrance and you sob, nothing you can do but lean against his shoulder and cry. He grins against your cheek and presses in. Gasping at the sensation, your body tenses, his finger running in slow circles inside of you.  
  
  
“That's not so bad right? And if you behave, it'll only get better.” He goes faster, thrusting his finger in and out and shoving in as deep as he can go before aggressively rubbing against your walls. You can't help but moan against him, crying out when he hits things inside of you that feel good, never having been touched before. You don't want this to feel good. You'd rather it be painful. “Damn, you make good noises. You're so damn sensitive too. Is this the first time someone's been inside you? That's so sweet. Or maybe, you're just that big of a slut.” He openly mocks you and there's nothing you can do but shake against him. Hale has started pressing his body against you, thrusting himself against your ass. “You know what? You've been good so far. I think I'm going to give you a present.”  
  
  
He pulls his finger out of you and you sigh in relief, gasping in air as your senses calm down. But he only leaves you for a second, shoving your shorts down enough to push back into your body with two fingers that vigorously start moving against your walls. You scream before Hale’s hand covers your mouth, other hand holding your hip to keep you still as they assault you. Jeriah pushes you against Hale, looking you in the face as he fucks you with his hand, the feeling far too much for you to handle. He thrusts his fingers into you so hard that you're jolted backwards, sobbing loudly as he destroys you. It feels too good and you hate it. You don't want this.  
  
  
You’re so far gone that you hardly even hear the loud banging from upstairs. Jeriah slows to a stop and you attempt to breathe from behind Hale’s hand. “Where the fuck is Jace?”  
  
  
“He was watching the door.”  
  
  
“I know that, you idiot. That goddamn traitor.” You can't concentrate, body rattling as Jeriah removes his fingers, grabbing your throat and your face roughly in his hands. “You tell anyone about this, and I'll personally make sure you become part of the ocean.” He shoves you to the floor and you're for a moment relieved. It's over. It's over.  
  
  
The lights turn out and you hear a door shut quietly as they make their escape. Footsteps thud down the stairs. You can't even call out to them. All you can manage is turning your face to the floor and sob loudly, you can't even breathe.  
  
  
The door slams open, bringing in light from the hallway. “Moon?” It’s not over. Of course it's not over. Now people are going to see you like this. You cry harder. “Go get help! Holy fucking shit. Moon it's okay. I'm here.” You hear Cheri more than you can see her. She hovers over you for a moment and then you're arms are free and you're covered by a blanket, wrapping you tightly. She sits with you in the floor and holds you against her as you sob. 

 

 

It's been hours. You sit in Plumeria’s room, nestled between her and Cheri as they try to keep you calm. After Cheri found you, Kei ran to wake up Plumeria and Guzma, the latter of which tore through the house to find Hale and Jeriah after carrying you up to Plumeria’s room. The look on his face when he saw you is burned into your mind. That look of pity and- and sadness. You can't even be angry anymore.  
  
  
Jace had gotten Cheri, and he has done nothing but sit in the hallway under Kei’s watch and apologize profusely. He wasn't aware of what they were going to do. Guzma nearly knocked his head off, but he swears he just thought they were going to rough you up. Hale and Jeriah haven't been seen since, likely leaving Po Town altogether.  
  
  
Guzma eventually comes back soaking wet and empty handed. He decides that you and Plumeria and Cheri are going to sleep in his room and he's going to stay down stairs in case they try to sneak back in. You want to protest, but Cheri doesn't let you. She feels responsible for leaving you down there, you know she does. But it's not her fault. You agree to sleep in Guzma’s room to make her feel better.  
  
  
Guzma’s golisopod stands outside the door. It does make you feel infinitely safer, even if you wish it was Hauntly instead. You know Podsy won't let anything in. You're nestled between Plumeria and Cheri, arms wrapped around Cheri like you're clinging for life. You cry yourself to sleep, both Cheri and Plumeria rubbing your back.


	9. Body

You are in a dark room. You don't know where the walls are, how close they are to you. It's not cold, not hot, there's not even a breeze. Turning around, there is a hallway, small and long and at the end hangs a light bulb emitting a faint glow. You begin towards it, the floor is hard on your bare feet, and with each step, the light seems farther away. Until all at once, you're right in front of it. You’re captivated by it, the light soft and white, only covering a small amount of space. You reach for the string but a hand is already there, snapping the light off. You gasp and grab at the string, clicking it back on only to see the room in front of you empty. You turn around. A face, white and sunken in, appears in front of you. The floor disappears beneath you and you begin falling.  
  
  
Laying flat on your back, you look over at your hand, gengar’s pokeball sitting loosely in it. The ground is dirt and you vaguely recognize the gym you're in. “You couldn't save them.” A voice above you says, you turn to look at them. Giovanni stands above you, arms crossed and scowling.  
  
  
“What?” You ask but no sound comes out of your mouth.  
  
  
“You couldn't save him.” Your dad’s face flashes in your mind, sick and dying and so thin, the face you'd seen in the room. Focusing again on the figure above you, you see Guzma. “You couldn't even save yourself.” A hand wraps around your throat, and then your arms, your waist, hands appearing out of the floor, dragging you into the ground and you scream. 

 

 

There’s screams echoing in the room. “Moon! Moon! Wake up!” You’re shaken awake, screaming bloody murder as Cheri holds you to her. You can’t breathe, hyperventilating as tears run down your face. “It's okay, here. It's okay.” She lets you go for a moment, slamming the window open to let air in and she comes back to hold you.  
  
  
“I-I-I'm gonna be sick,” you manage out, barely able to reach to the window frame and lean out, violently retching as Cheri pats your back. It's raining out and you can't even care that your hair is getting soaked in the downpour, trying to breathe deeply between dry heaving.  
  
  
It's been a week since… since that. You've barely talked about it, even to Cheri. They never found where Hale and Jeriah went, and you're honestly so thankful for it. You never want to face them again. You never want to hear of them again. Guzma has been ready to tear into Jace at every opportunity. You're the only reason he's still here. At the end of the day, he's the only reason that shit didn't get worse. And you really appreciate him for it. You had to convince Guzma to even let you talk to him, but he eventually let you. You hugged Jace, forgave him, and he cried with you. He’d apologized so many times and he still says sorry every chance he gets.  
  
  
You've tried to express that you just don't want to talk about it, you just want to pretend that it never happened. But for the few who know what happened, it's like every time that they look at you, all they see is a sad and pitiful girl who can't do anything for herself. You’ve never felt more useless in your life.  
  
  
The nightmares have been worse since then, something that your medicine used to handle but anymore it's just something that is completely out of control. You're hardly sleeping at night and half of your dreams end with you getting violently ill first thing in the morning.  
  
  
You try to go back to training the grunts, but something in your head tells you that they know that there is something wrong. They know something happened. Especially with both of their bosses being on edge and you being jumpier than you've ever been. Everything scares you, bumps in the night, doors closing too loud, when they're outside and someone screams, when someone touches you. That's the worst one. They could graze your arm or touch your shoulder and you almost jump out of your skin. People have taken to making sure that they call to you before they actually come near you. You've had to resort to turtlenecks with the sleeves cut off, your neck is horribly bruised. Deep blues and purples and reds, some green. You try not to look at it or touch it much.  
  
  
Your emotions are a mess. You don't want to be alone but you also don't want people to look at you. You're severely angry but spend most of your time crying. For the first few days, your body hurt, almost like cramping but somehow worse. Your insides were just pain and it made you feel like you somehow, someway deserved this, the nightmares telling you so. It's also like your body is no longer yours, it's a foreign feeling, similar to you remember falling. It's like you're both inside and outside of your body. Your body is yours but your brain is so far away, trying to leave. Plumeria tells you that you're dissociating and when you look it up, it's apparently a type of coping mechanism. And you find the absent state of mind it gives you more comforting than real life does.  
  
  
During this time, you don't see a lot of Guzma either. And this time, it isn't because you're avoiding him. It's weird, but you’d almost rather see him now, an odd sense of comfort when you see him in addition to Cheri or Plumeria. You've not talked to anyone about that either. You vaguely remember him carrying you up the stairs that night. He'd been half asleep until he saw you, and you hated it, absolutely hated that he had to see you that way. Especially after the shit they said about him.  
  
  
It was in those following moments that you knew that when he’d cornered you in the bathroom, it was trulybecause he’d had too much to drink. You finally believed what Plumeria had said. He’d picked you up, still wrapped in the blanket Cheri had grabbed from somewhere, and he held you as you cried into him, as he carried you up to Plumeria’s room. He even stayed with you until Plumeria and Cheri had grabbed shit to clean you up. You had fit so snugly against him, he was warm and his arms cradled you tightly, shushing you. Petting your hair down. He'd called you ‘babygirl’. And then in the middle of the night, he'd come to check on you when you all were in his room. You weren't asleep, but you made pretend as he came in and checked over the three of you. The others didn't wake up.  
  
  
You hadn't talked to anyone about it yet. But you need to. You need to know if what they said was true. You didn't think Guzma had ‘gone soft’. Just that he was focused on the grunts getting stronger. The two of you had that talk in the kitchen, but even then he was stubborn and didn't agree with you. You just need to know what's going on. Whether he's keeping you here to actually help or if he's only keeping you here as a way to chase tail. It’s not something you could just ask him about. And you didn't even know what you would do once you got your answer. It’s just another thing to be stressed and afraid of.  
  
  
Cheri stays with you in the mornings, mostly because the two of you try to sleep. She's started sleeping in the same bed as you and you really appreciate the comfort it brings you, even if it didn't help your nightmares. In the late afternoon and into the evening, she’d take you to Plumeria so that she could get some chores done. Plumeria has only tried to make you talk about what happened once. Otherwise she's let you go at your own pace with coming to terms with it.  
  
  
Tonight she's sitting against her headboard, laptop in her lap as she scrolls through newsfeeds and makeup articles. You lay beside her, facing the screen and watching the tutorials with her, half-dozing. You haven't put on makeup in a long time, but it's always been something serene to watch. There's a knock on the door and you jolt but quickly calm down as Plumeria puts her hand on your back. The door creaks open, hidden behind her laptop screen and you close your eyes, choosing to ignore whoever it is.  
  
  
“Is she asleep?” Guzma’s voice quietly calls into the room. You look up at Plumeria and then shut your eyes tightly, hinting to tell him yes.  
  
  
“Yea,” she whispers back. “Has been for a bit.” You hear him lean against the frame, a gentle creak sounding the walls discomfort.  
  
  
“I heard she was having trouble with that.”  
  
  
“Yea. Cheri says she's got nightmares. Says they ain't hardly slept, poor thing.” He sighs loudly and a heavy thunk tells you he dropped his head against the wall.  
  
  
“Plums, just um.” He pauses, his clothes rustling. “I'll just put this in her room then.” He heaves a sigh again and the door clicks closed, a few seconds passing before you hear a loud thud in the hallway, likely Guzma hitting the wall with his fist.  
  
  
“G’s gone.” Plumeria pats your back and you just nod into the pillow. “Ya doin’ alright tonight?”  
  
  
You keep your eyes shut. “Plumeria, I need to ask you something.”  
  
  
“About?”  
  
  
“About some… something that Je-” you wince internally. “About something that was said.” You can feel her shoulders slump and you know in a way she feels upset for asking.  
  
  
“Okay.” You breathe in deeply, slowly sitting up so that you're against the headboard with her. Your gaze goes out the window, hands already shaking and she grabs at one tightly.  
  
  
“That night, they said that-” _You never know what a man will do to get a woman until he finds one he_ really _wants his dick in._ Tears start forming in your eyes and you try to blink them away. “Is he… is Guzma keeping me here because he wa-wants-” You hiccup as you try to hold in a sob.  
  
  
“Aw girl, naw.” Plumeria shoves her laptop down the bed and grabs your shoulders, hugging you tightly as tears start down your cheeks. “I’ll tell ya right now that if that was a thing, I'd beat his ass. His dumb ass is a lot of things, but he ain't the type a monster to do that shit.” You try to nod but your body just shakes against her as you cry.  
  
  
“They said that-”  
  
  
“I know what they said. I made Jace tell me everything they fucking said to you. It's not a thing. It ain't true, okay.” You grip the back of her pajama top in your hands, struggling to breathe and trying to calm down. It's the answer you wanted, but why aren't you happy?  
  
  
“Does…” You hiccup in a sob. “Does he like me at all?” She holds the back of your head, gently resting you against her shoulder.  
  
  
“Moon, is that something ya really want?”  
  
  
“What?”  
  
  
“Is it somethin’ that you really want or is it somethin’ that you just think you need right now?”  
  
  
“I don't….I don't know.” You feel her nod against your head.  
  
  
“I want ya to think about it, kay? Then we'll talk.” You sniffle, backing away from her arms, and nod at her. That's. That's understandable. And maybe it's true, like you just need some sort of validation. Maybe you were just trying to make up some reason for them to have done what they did other than they were just complete assholes. You feel like they were just making up a reason.  
  
  
Plumeria sits her hand on your back again as you lay down. You end up turning towards the window and watching the rain beat against the tall walls outside.

 

 

It’s eventually late enough that you walk back to your room with Cheri. She's telling you that she's cleaned your sheets and done some of your all's laundry, but she'd gotten held up with helping out someone with a new pokemon. You're glad that she's helping them out while you're recovering.  
  
  
She sold herself short. The bedroom smells a lot better and you think she'd actually done everyone's bedding. When you lay down, it smells wonderful, like calming flowers and rain. It's so much better than the mildew smell that normally permeates the room. Your pillow feels a little lumpier than normal and you sit up to shake it out. But you stop. There's a pokeball sitting underneath, one you'd recognize in a lineup of hundreds. “What is that?” Cheri asks as you pick it up.  
  
  
“It’s Hauntly.” Your voice is barely above a whisper. You roll it in your hands and it's as perfectly round as ever. You gently press the release button, a red light streaming out, and your gengar appears floating at the end of your bed, stretching his chunky limbs long and stiff. It blinks multiple times, eyes darting around the room and then falling on you. He seems shocked, staring at your arms and legs and your neck, and then he frowns, floating to you and you hold him tightly. You could absolutely cry, but you don't want to alarm him more than what he already is, so you hold the tears back.  
  
  
The noises he makes at you are pure nonsense to other people, but it's like a second language to you. Sometimes he just puts ideas directly into your head if he has too much to say. And you're flooded with both. How he's sorry and he thinks he failed you all those months ago, he wants to know how you're hurt, who hurt you, why you're still here. He wants to scare everyone in the house until they can't think straight anymore. You sit him on the bed with you, holding his clawed hands and shushing him. “It's okay, Hauntly. You did your best. You did everything I asked you to. I’m just glad I have you back. You can dig through my head when I sleep okay? Just please don't hurt anyone.” He protests, mouth opening wide and eyes sharpening. “No. Just stay with me. I’ll explain. Just stay with me.” Your head grows fuzzy as he digs for a minute, causing you to feel swimmy and you close your eyes.  
  
  
“Moon! Are you okay? What's it doing?” Cheri says to your side, and you hold Hauntly’s hands tighter so he won't move.  
  
  
“It’s okay. He’s just… finding answers.” It clears and you blink at him. He looks distraught, an expression on his face that you haven't seen since your dad died. “I’ll be okay. Just don't leave.” He nods, garbled sounds coming from his mouth. “Hauntly, this is Cheri. She's a close friend. I want you to be good to her, okay?” He bounces from your bed to hers, startling her and she backs to her headboard. “Hauntly, she isn't used to ghosts. Please be nice.” He looks her up and down before extending his hand, something you taught him humans do when he was a haunter. She slowly takes his hand and he smiles, shaking her hand vigorously. His mouth produces more noise.  
  
  
“What's he saying?”  
  
  
“He says ‘It's nice to meet you’. And he thanks you for taking care of me.”  
  
  
“Yea uh, you're welcome, my dude.” She says quietly. He nods and lets her go, looking around the room.  
  
  
“You can explore in here if you want, just don't go out in the house yet.” He nods again and disappears.  
  
  
“I-is he in here?” Cheri questions, eyes wide at where he left.  
  
  
“Yea, I can feel him. It's just how he does.” You lay down in your bed, placing his pokeball next to the pillow. This is what Guzma must have brought you. You guess maybe he was upset because he couldn't give it to you himself. But he knew. He knew you were struggling bad enough that you needed your pokemon, and he gave him to you. The pokemon you need to sleep, to help regulate your emotions, to take care of these nightmares, to feel safe. And you feel like the action of this answers your question. You don't know if you're still just seeking validation and protection or whether you might actually be coming to like Guzma, but he likes you and cares enough to give you back your best friend when you need him most.  
  
  
That night, you and Hauntly play in the grass back at home, back in Viridian, as he clears your head of nightmares and eats your bad dreams away.


	10. Make You Better

The next week passes, the rain is heavier, thunder and lightning sounding against the house at all hours. And then it continues on into the next day and the next, more rain and more thunder. They tell you that this is pretty much the typhoon weather that the walls were built for. None of you go out in it, even refusing to let Hauntly out in it as much as he loves this kind of weather. You find that the house being completely full of people is a little overwhelming, especially with your recovering emotional state and ridiculously more so now that you have to slowly introduce Hauntly to people. It’s unfortunate, but you end up having to put him in his pokeball a lot because he likes to harass the kids. But you still sneak him out for shits and giggles sometimes.  
  
  
During these days, the game room is an absolute bloodbath for who wants the tvs and video games. You generally decide that it is both way too full and completely not worth it, instead choosing the board games or cards or whatever else games they decide to make up. Sometimes people even pull out an old projector and use one of the laptops to stream movies onto the blank wall. They make a ton of food, there are people awake pretty much at all hours so they just keep the food coming, bringing it out into the foyer where everyone is bundled up in blankets and comforters. Despite the previous couple of weeks, this is probably the best time that you’ve had while you’ve been stuck here.  
  
  
It is during one of these days that they’ve managed to drag Guzma from his room and you are most certainly kicking his ass at cards. Most of the kids are behind you, Cheri bundled up next to you, watching as you discard two cards. Ian, who is dealing, hands you two for your discard and you turn them one at a time into your hand. You raise your eyebrows and look at Guzma. He does the same, one eyebrow raising to disappear behind his glasses, and frowns in frustration. He sets down two cards himself and Ian passes him two as well. Guzma flips one, nods a little, and then flips the other. “Oh come on!” He shouts, throwing his losing hand onto the foyer floor. “This game fucking sucks, yo. It’s rigged.”  
  
  
“Oh Guzma, don’t be such a bad sport.” You lightly sit your hand down. “Tell you what, next time you can choose the game. But as for now, two of those boxes of burritos have my name on them.” He groans and runs his hands through his hair, scratching harshly at his scalp. “Man, you really are such a baby at losing.”  
  
  
“Hey, I ain’t a baby. Ain’t nobody likes losin’.” You snort.  
  
  
“Winner of the next round gets to play Moon!” One of the kids shout which in turn starts a whole chorus of shouting. Cheri helps you stand up and you scoot out of the way so that they can start their competition. Just a swarm of childrens and teens and young adults playing games like this is some sort of giant fucked up slumber party.  
  
  
“Yo, can I talk to you for a minute?” Guzma smacks at your arm and you turn to face him. He has that look on his face again that you can’t quite place, but you nod, grab your crutch, and follow him up the stairs. He starts to head towards the walkway outside but pauses and instead makes a path through his box wall so that you can get through. You’ve not been on this side of the house since the night that he had Plumeria, Cheri, and you sleep in there, since that night. But shit has changed. You’ve been able to talk to Guzma a lot easier, especially since he’d given you Hauntly back. Hauntly doesn’t quite...like him at all, causing a lot of problems if you don’t keep an eye on him. You learn pretty quickly that Guzma isn’t particularly fond of ghosts either, an interesting situation produced when they first interacted. But when Hauntly is put away, the two of you have grown pretty amicable. He asks you pretty often how you’re feeling, whether your ankle is getting better, even going as far as helping you up and down the stairs if he’s going the same direction. He’s still the same snarky asshole, but it’s like he’s just became a lot more caring.  
  
  
He opens the door and then closes it behind the two of you after you slowly trundle your way in. His room is just as messy as you remember, some of the bottles have been cleared away, probably at Plumeria’s insistence, but otherwise still a complete and total wreck. He flops onto his bed and instead of sitting beside him, you walk on up and take a seat in his ‘throne’. It’s comfortable, you guess.  
  
  
“I can see why you sit in this thing. Makes me feel special already.” He snorts when you grin at him, his expression becoming more serious after.  
  
  
“I’ve been thinking about what you said the other week. About leaving. ‘Bout taking the kids with you.”  
  
  
“Oh. I see.” You honestly had no idea what this conversation was going to be about, but for some reason that was the farthest thing on your mind.  
  
  
“Look, I’m gonna start of sayin’ that I really hate losin’. Yer right!I’m a fuckin’ sore loser. Because it makes me feel like I ain’t good enough. And when you went and said watcha did, it made me feel that way. But it also got me thinkin’ ‘bout other shit too. Like me callin’ ‘em all family. It’s cause that’s what we gotta be. We gotta stick together, ain’t nobody else gonna give a shit about it. But I didn’ take the time to learn ‘em because I don’t wanna get attached to ‘em and then lose ‘em. It just rolls back to me feelin’ like I’m not good enough if I lose ‘em, ya know?”  
  
  
“Guzma-” He waves his hand at you.  
  
  
“I ain’t finished. It took me some hard thinkin’. But if ya really think you can give ‘em a better life, do it. Cause yer right about them deservin’ it. They deserve so much more than an abandoned fucking town in the middle of fucking nowhere.” He’s quiet for a minute, eyes closed and breathing deeply. “Yea. So. That’s where I’m at.”  
  
  
“But so do you. So does everybody. You didn’t ask for your parents or how they treated you. You deserve better too.”  
  
  
“Nah. You were right. I fucked up. And now these kids are going to have to drag themselves out of this shithole that I’ve dug for all of us.”  
  
  
“Hey no.” You push yourself off the chair and shuffle towards him, sitting gently on the bed. “I know what it’s like to be labeled and then have to correct it.”  
  
  
“Good little princess like you? Nah, yer just sayin’ that. Make me feel better about the kids.” You shake your head at him.  
  
  
“I wish. No. Viridian had real bad people, Guzma. Not the kind of bad people say you all are. You all aren’t anything compared to them. They actually hurt and killed and experimented on pokemon. And people. That’s where Team Rocket started. Their boss was the gym leader of Viridian. And when all of that went down, the whole town ended up labeled. As conspirators and members and all kinds of horrible shit. And then my dad. He worked in Saffron in a science facility that ended up being controlled by Rocket. The scientists weren’t even aware that they were working under them. So when all the shit hit the fan, Dad was seen as a member of them. Even in Viridian where people knew him.” You huff and wring your hands together.  
  
  
“Holy fuck.”  
  
  
“Oh it… it gets worse. One day Dad got sick. A lot of the scientists did. Some kind of exposure to whatever they were working on. He died without being able to clear his name. And then we were labeled too. Having to prove to people that you grew up with that you don’t steal and kill pokemon is horrible. And then losing someone on top of that. It nearly killed us.”  
  
  
“Fucking shit, Moon. Is that why ya moved?” You stare at a spot in the wall, not looking at him but knowing exactly what look is on his face.  
  
  
“It’s part of it. It ends up pretty depressing having to look at buildings and places that caused your dad to die. And it’s total shit dealing with the people.” He’s quiet for a minute while you reminisce about your home back in Kanto. You do miss it sometimes, but in your dreams, it’s the Viridian before everything went to shit.  
  
  
“....was he a good dad?”  
  
  
“He was a great dad.” Tears are coming to your eyes and you look up and blink them away. You shake your head and look at him. “Look, you all are going to be fine. We’re going to go out there and we’re going to show them that you all aren’t horrible shits wrecking havoc all over the place. We’re going to get them on track and we’re going to help them.” He smiles, something genuine that you’re not sure you’ve seen from him before. “I really think it would help them to see you get yourself help too.” He nods, looking at his hands. Before you can stop yourself, you reach for one, his hand nearly engulfing yours when it closes. You bump your shoulder into his and laugh. “Maybe we just deal with shit the same way. Try to help people our way and then don’t want to be wrong.”  
  
  
“I ain’t seen you be wrong once since you’ve been here.”  
  
  
“Yea, right. Thanks, I guess.” You turn to look him in the face, but you’re shocked at the look of tenderness he’s giving you. He reaches up to hold your cheek in his free hand, your face heating up beneath it. Before you can process what is really going on, or if it’s even real for that matter, he’s leaned forward. His mouth easily covers yours, lips slightly chapped and his hair on his chin scratches against your skin, all sensations that make your heart race in your chest. You sigh into the kiss, closing your eyes and leaning into his hand as you let him press himself deeper. You think you wanted this. How long has this been building in you? You don’t even know. Have you always hated him? Or have you just butted heads with him out of instinct. You remember sitting with him by the pool, his golisopod between you. You were so angry with him, and you had every right to be, but you had found it so easy to talk to him then. You can’t think of a time when you really had a hard time talking to him.  
  
  
His tongue explores your mouth and the feeling is incredible, tangling with yours and building something deep within your chest. And then his hand moves, running from your cheek to feel through your hair and settling at the nape of your neck. Like electricity, the memory of Jeriah holding the back of your neck streaks through your brain, his face behind your eyes. You panic.  
  
  
You yank your hand out of his and shove against his shoulder, breaking the kiss with eyes wide. You stare at his chest, unable to look him in the face as you try to calm your breathing down. “Ah shit. Fuck, I didn’t mean to… shit,” he stumbles over his words as he realizes what’s going on.  
  
  
“I’m sorry. I can’t, I can’t.” Your hands are shaking as your cover your face, leaning over your legs and trying to hold back tears and the compulsion to start hyperventilate, anxiety beating around in your chest.  
  
  
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not gonna do anythin’ you don’t want. I’m sorry.” He slowly reaches one hand across your shoulders, testing to make sure that the action is okay before he leans towards you. He places his other hand in front of you and you immediately grab it, letting him move to hold you. He cradles you, like he held you before, and you end up pushing yourself into his chest, allowing him to envelope you in his large arms.  
  
  
Calming down takes a few minutes, trying to consciously control your breathing, deep in and deep out. He just lays his head on top of yours. You did want this. You’ve wanted to be held like this since the first time he did so, regardless of the situation. You feel so safe like this. “Is it fine if I stay in here tonight?” You ask, hardly above a whisper. He nods, kissing at the top of your head and moving away to scoot up into the bed, pulling you along with him. He holds you tightly against him, your head against his chest and your arms secured tightly between you and him. His heartbeat lulls you to sleep as his hand runs through your hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will likely be the last one until the holidays are over. Likely New Years just to be safe. I just really don't do well during the holidays.


End file.
